


The New Normal

by baloobird



Series: The New Normal [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anti-Starker, But not your typical sickfic, Chronic Illness, F/M, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, I'm projecting the shit outta this ya'll, Medical Inaccuracies, Multiple Sclerosis, Neurological Disorders, Peter Parker Has MS, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Tony Stark, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, infinity war and endgame don't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baloobird/pseuds/baloobird
Summary: Life has a tendency to throw curveballs, and this one that's thrown at Peter Parker is one that he and his family never,everexpected.Some curveballs are temporary, ones that are thrown to make life "interesting" and keep people on their toes.But some are permanent...and the only thing left to do is adjust, regroup, and move on.Move on with the new normal.
Relationships: Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Bruce Banner & May Parker (Spider-Man), Bruce Banner & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The New Normal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081250
Comments: 109
Kudos: 363





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ethicallama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethicallama/gifts).



> Hey guys!! So I've been wanting to write a fic like this since...pretty much since I started writing fanfiction (I was diagnosed with this several months before I posted my first fic), and a couple months ago, an idea finally hit me on how I can go about it.
> 
> Aaaaaand I'm kinda nervous 'cuz I've never put my thoughts and experiences on paper before so I really hope you like it (you don't know how therapeutic this has been for me omg) 💖💖💖
> 
> I'm not gonna pretend that I'm an expert in the medical field so there might be a chance at inaccuracies, but as for everything that happens in this fic, it's based on first-hand experience...unfortunately 🙃
> 
>   
> Dedicating this to an awesome friend of mine (@bestofirondadfics on tumblr), thank you so so much for encouraging me to post this and talking me out of my nervousness lol, you're amazing and awesome!!! 💖💖💖 (I should've gifted this when I posted it but I didn't think of it *double facepalm*)

It is spring break and fourteen-year-old Peter Parker cannot be more excited.

Actually, it’s not even that. It’s Sunday evening - the night before spring break technically starts - and for the next week, he can stay up late, sleep in, and hang out with Ned for as long as they want...well, until his aunt and uncle want him to come home.

The teenager in question is sitting at his desk finishing up his homework. His goal is to have all the mundane schoolwork done by tonight so he doesn’t have to fret over it and hate himself the night before classes start again.

Yet as he’s working through the last of his math problems, he finds himself having to squint in order to see the numbers clearly.

That’s weird...he could see them just fine a few minutes ago.

But now as he’s looking at them, he sees a bit of a shadow under each and every number, every letter in the word problems too.

The kid blinks several times to get his eyes to readjust but to no avail, leading him to take off his glasses and use his shirt rub off any smudges on the lenses. He looks at the textbook again when he puts them back on and frowns at seeing the same result as earlier.

Maybe his vision is changing, he thinks. He has to get new lenses put into his frames every year because of that, maybe this time the change is more drastic for some reason. And he has astigmatism, so seeing images slightly distorted isn’t uncommon, but it’s weird how they got blurry so suddenly.

Peter squints and blinks as he fights through the last bit of his homework. He sighs in relief when he finally closes the book and puts it in his backpack, hell-bent on not seeing anything school-related until next Monday morning.

The boy considers telling May and Ben about the eyesight issue but decides against it. Maybe his eyes are just tired, it was a lot of homework, after all - why teachers insist on assigning so much when it’s supposed to be a  _ break, _ he’ll never know - maybe once he goes to sleep and rests his eyes for the night, he’ll wake up and they’ll be refreshed. 

So he doesn’t tell his guardians. He ignores the slight blurriness as he eats his dinner, washes the dishes, watches TV. Peter then takes off his glasses as he gets into bed, excited for an upcoming week of absolutely  _ no school. _

_ This week is gonna be awesome. _

-

Or so he thought.

The next morning, Peter groggily opens his eyes as he turns to lay on his back. Once he gets more focused, he absentmindedly looks at the ceiling and his eyes bug out at what they see.

He sees two ceiling fans.

Why in the fuck is he looking at  _ two _ ceiling fans?

The boy then glances to one side of his room and he sees two windows...he glances to the other side and sees two doors.

His eyes dance all over the room and as he’s taking everything in, he feels his heart start to race.

Because he’s seeing two of  _ everything. _

Two desks, two closets, two mirrors, two backpacks, literally he’s looking at two of everything he owns.

_ What the fuck?! _

The teen hastily sits up and puts on his glasses, hoping his eyes are just playing tricks on him but it does nothing except make him see two of everything more clearly.

He slowly gets out of bed, irrationally thinking that his eyesight will go back to normal if he does everything at a slow pace. He uses the bathroom, brushes his teeth, washes his face.

And still sees two of everything: toothbrushes, toilets, faucets, his reflections in the mirrors...two of every-fucking-thing.

The teen has no idea what to do other than tell his aunt and uncle...he can’t keep this from them.

With a disgruntled sigh, Peter leaves the bathroom and makes his way to the kitchen. He sees both sets of his guardians drinking their respective coffees at the counter, with May at the corner and Ben on her right side.

The kid gets to his stool next to Ben but before he sits down, he feels around to make sure he’s about to sit in the  _ actual _ stool and not the clone of it. He hears his guardians say “Good morning”, “How’d you sleep?” and the like but he doesn’t register it. He takes in a breath and says hurriedly, “Um, I-I’m seeing double and I don’t know why.”

Both adults turn to him with concerned looks on their faces. Ben locks eyes with his kid and asks with confusion, “What, what do you mean ‘double’?”

Peter feels his heart rate speed up as he answers, “I-I-I see two of you, I see two of  _ everything _ and I don’t know why, I don’t know what to do.”

The older man grabs his kid’s shoulder and looks at the teen fully, “Can you look around the room for me?”

Peter looks side-to-side all over the kitchen, the blurred images giving him a slight case of whiplash. His anxiety escalates when he sees both grown-ups stare at him with wide eyes, causing him to blurt out in fear, “What, what is it, what’s wrong -”

May immediately grabs the phone, “I’m calling the eye doctor.”

While she calls them, Ben shushes his kid in an effort to calm him down, “Hey, it’s alright, it’s just….”

The child is afraid to ask but he does anyway, “What?”

The officer takes a breath before he responds, “Your eyes...they aren’t matching up when you’re moving them around -”

Peter is now bordering on frantic, “But  _ why _ -”

“We don’t know, okay, we don’t know, but we’re gonna take you to the doctor and we’re gonna figure it out and everything’s gonna be okay.”

The teen’s breathing starts hitching up, so Ben tightens his grip, “Hey, look at me.”

His kid does, albeit reluctantly. He does his best to keep his gaze on his real uncle but the shadow of him keeps swaying back and forth. When the kid has his attention, the cop reiterates, “Everything is gonna be okay, you hear me? We’re gonna figure this out.”

Peter just nods his head in acceptance. Whatever this is can’t be solved right this minute so there’s no point in getting wound up about it, he thinks.

May then gets off the phone with the optometrist’s office, “We got lucky, someone just canceled, we can go this afternoon.”

Ben smiles at his nephew in an attempt to lighten the mood, “See, there we go, the eye doctor is gonna know what to do and you’re gonna get better and be playing legos with Ned in no time.”

Peter exhales, calming himself down fully for the first time this morning, “Okay...yeah, okay.”

-

The eye doctor has no idea what to do.

When Peter and May arrived at the optometrist’s office and were called back, the teen went through the usual spiel that he goes through in any checkup: glaucoma test, dilation of his eyes, the sign test - which is much harder to do when seeing double the amount of letters, the teen quickly learned - and asked a million questions of what could have possibly lead to this.

But that’s what makes this situation so much more difficult:  _ nothing _ caused this...it literally happened overnight.

And what makes things especially weird is that all of those tests came back normal. There’s nothing wrong with his eyes aside from his already awful eyesight and that one cataract that’s been in his right eye forever but never bothered him.

So what the fuck is making him see double?

After what feels like the thousandth time looking in his eyes, the doctor tells May in what sounds like a panicked tone, “You need to take him to the doctor. This, unfortunately, is out of my area of expertise -”

May is clearly pissed, “You’re kidding me.”

The man responds in stride, “I am sorry, ma’am, but I have done everything that I can think of. In my mind, there is nothing wrong with his eyes even though, yes, there is something clearly wrong with his eyes...however, I am unable to detect it. His doctor should have the proper equipment and testing that far exceeds what I have here.”

Peter can see his aunt literally biting her tongue to keep from saying a non-G-rated response and he’d laugh if the situation wasn’t so serious. After a couple of seconds, May responds curtly before they leave to check out, “Well, okay then...thank you for  _ all _ of your help.”

-

Since Peter doesn’t go to a pediatrician anymore, he and May to go straight to the closest Urgent Care.

The convenient thing about Urgent Cares is that no appointments are required, so they can just check in and wait for their turn.

When the teenager’s name is called and they go in one of the rooms, Peter goes through the routine that happens at every visit from the blood pressure test to the doctor putting a cold stethoscope over his heart and telling him to take deep breaths.

Once Peter shows her what the problem is, the doctor looks at him with wide eyes, similar to May’s and Ben’s reactions this morning.

She doesn’t know anything about this either.

The doctor does a few more tests: has Peter stretch his arms and touch his nose with his fingertips, she knocks his knees with that hammer thing to test his reflexes, follow the popsicle stick without moving his head - which he absolutely  _ flunked _ at. Honestly, the whole ordeal made the kid feel ridiculous but maybe she’ll magically find out what’s wrong from that.

But Peter did figure out one thing from that popsicle stick test: if he stares straight ahead, his vision is fine; it’s when he looks side to side when he sees double.

Maybe that’s not a  _ totally _ bad sign?

The physician talks a little bit to May, saying big words that the teen doesn’t understand despite being a child genius but then said woman asks his aunt a question, “Has he taken the visual field test?”

Peter looks at his guardian in confusion, who’s sporting that same expression. May then asks the doctor what they’re both thinking, “What is the visual field test?”

The professional looks at them both in surprise, “You said you guys came from the eye doctor, right?”

The two Parkers share a look of even more confusion before May confirms, “Right….”

“And he  _ didn’t _ administer the visual field test?”

The teenager works up the courage to answer this time, “No...what is it?”

The other woman is beside herself, “It’s a test for your peripheral vision. Basically, what you do is: you stare straight ahead and detect the white spots that appear in your peripheral vision. It’s used to detect vision problems such as vision loss, nerve damage, and...the exact problem you’re having...I can’t believe he didn’t have you take it.”

_ So my eye doctor’s a dumbass…. _

May asks, sounding defeated, “So coming here was a waste of time?”

The other woman looks at them in sympathy, “I’m sorry, but we don’t have that equipment here, that is administered by the optometrist. Peter will have to take that test and then come back to me once he gets the results. Again, I’m really sorry that this was a wasted trip.”

May replies, “No, um...it’s not your fault, thanks for your help. We’ll, uh, just have to make another appointment, I guess.”

Once they check out and get back in the car, the nurse turns to her nephew, looking agitated but trying not to show it, “You hungry?”

Peter shyly nods his head.

May lets out a sigh, “Good...I want McDonald’s, you want McDonald’s?”

A ghost of a smile escapes the kid as he nods his head again.

May puts on one herself, “Okay...we’re getting McDonald’s.”

They back out of the parking spot and go get McDonald’s. The logical part of Peter’s brain knows this won’t fix whatever the fuck is going on with his eyesight, but as he bites into that heavenly Big Mac, he can’t help but bask in the temporary comfort of fast food.

After they eat, May stops by a drugstore on the way home to pick up a few things.

Among those things is an eyepatch for Peter.

The woman says defensively as she's giving him the item, “I saw it and I just...I figured it might be easier to see and walk around and um -”

Peter feels warmth fill his chest, “It’s a really good idea, May, um...thank you...I hope I don’t have to wear it for too long.”

“Me either, sweetie...me either.”

When they get back home, May immediately calls the eye doctor again to schedule an appointment for that test. Unfortunately, the only person who’s authorized to conduct it is available on Wednesdays. 

So Peter has to live with this vision thing that no one knows what it is for at least two days. 

His spring break is certainly starting out on a positive note. 

_ Wonderful. _

_ Truly cannot imagine a better spring break. _

-

Unfortunately by Wednesday, Peter’s eyesight isn’t any better.

He spent most of Tuesday with Ned which was a great distraction from...everything. He has to wear the eyepatch awkwardly under one of his lenses, but he makes it work.

He looks and feels absurd as all shit but better to worry about one eye than both of them, the boy thinks.

Ben goes with him to the eye doctor this time and is in the room with him while his kid takes the test.

It’s the most bizarre test that Peter has ever seen. He rests his head on this stand-thing and finds himself staring at a giant white bowl with random dots on it.

The woman in charge gives the kid simple instructions, “Okay, now remember, don’t move your head, and I want you to press the button on this joystick,” she gives him said object, “When you see a light pop up in your peripheral vision. Do you have any questions?”

Peter shakes his head and settles it fully into the stand, joystick at the ready.

The test is surprisingly easy, the teen realizes, so easy that he wonders if he’s doing it wrong and they’ll have to start over again.

But by the end of it, the doctor seems satisfied, so he and his uncle go into an exam room to wait for the results, Ben softly encouraging his nephew all the while.

When his eye doctor - Peter is starting to doubt his credibility at this point - does walk in, the man has a concerned look on his face, “The test did detect an abnormality.”

_ Well, that’s good, right? We can finally figure out what’s wrong, at least? Hopefully? _

The optometrist continues, “The test showed that something could be wrong with an optic nerve that affects your peripheral vision.”

Ben asks, looking annoyed, “What do you mean ‘could be’? Are you saying that it  _ could be _ something else?”

“I can’t rule anything out, that is for your doctor to decide. They will have a better understanding of where to go from here.” The doctor then turns to the teenager, “I do hope you get better soon, Mr. Parker.”

Peter replies awkwardly but politely, “Um...thank you.”

The two Parkers look at each other with unamused expressions. Whatever happens with this eye thing, they wordlessly agree that they’re switching optometrists.

They soon check out and Ben arranges to have the results sent to that Urgent Care before they go to the place themselves.

Unfortunately, this visit turns out to be a complete waste of time.

This doctor at least looks apologetic when she says, “I can confirm that I agree with the optometrist on the results and I am so sorry but I am not able to help you, this is out of my realm of expertise. Your best bet would be to go to the hospital and find a doctor there who can help you.”

Peter’s eyes widen in fear.

_ Please no hospital, please no hospital, pleeeease no hospital…. _

-

They end up at the fucking hospital.

Ben and Peter check in, explain why they’re there, and sit in adjoining chairs in the waiting room.

And they wait...and they wait...and they wait, and they wait,  _ and they wait. _

After what feels like a decade, they finally get called back but before Peter can see a doctor, he has to answer a few questions.

Scratch that, a  _ million _ questions.

They ask for his address, insurance, medical and family history, whether or not he’s sexually active -  _ God, seriously? _ \- in addition to his current symptoms and what could have possibly led to those symptoms.

Once that nightmare is over, they are led to a large room with several hospital beds all separated by curtains. Peter can hear other patients behind the fabric talking to their respective healthcare professionals and he feels his anxiety rise at the thought of other people hearing him.

A nurse then leads them to one of the mini “hospital rooms” and Peter sits on the bed. She then says that someone will be with them shortly and leaves them alone.

So they have to wait...again.

Peter groans and rests his head on his uncle’s chest. He feels the older man comfortingly rubbing his shoulders and it makes him feel safe and secure, irrationally thinking that this could magically cure his eyesight. The teen then mumbles through his guardian’s shirt, “Thanks for coming with me...I mean, I know you had to but -”

“No buts, I don’t mind. Am I irritated? Yeah,  _ oh _ yeah, but none of it’s towards you, okay? I just wanna figure out what this is and get you better.”

The kid lifts his head and looks at his uncle fully. He half-smiles as he says, “Maybe we’ll stay long enough to see May clock in to her shift.”

Ben snorts, “Maybe we’ll get to see her clock out of it too.”

Both of them giggle at that, uplifting the mood for the first time since this hellish day started.

So they continue waiting.

And they wait some more.

They wait so long that Peter’s stomach starts growling with hunger. He knows he should’ve eaten something before they arrived but his insides were - and still are - so twisted in knots that he didn’t even want to think about eating.

And now he’s regretting that decision.

Another nurse eventually comes by. The teen takes off his glasses and eyepatch, already expecting what she’s going to ask.

He looks side to side to show her his vision problem and just like all the others, her eyes widen in surprise and ignorance.

Peter is really getting sick of people not knowing what the problem is.

He tries to pay attention to what the nurse is saying but he’s getting so tired that he’s tuning out, something about more tests? Seeing a doctor? Seeing a specialist? A specialist in what, eyes? They already went to one and that guy was a dud. 

The kid barely realizes the nurse left and he quickly puts on his “eye gear” as he’s now dubbing it. After hearing his stomach growl for about the dozenth time, Ben offers, “Why don’t I go down to the cafeteria and get us a sandwich or something, huh?”

“You-you don’t have to -”

Ben smiles caringly,  _ “I’m going. _ Maybe try and get some rest or something...we aren’t leaving anytime soon.” 

The child nods defeatedly as he sees his uncle walk away. He then takes off his glasses - keeping the eyepatch on - and lays on his side on the crunchy paper of the hospital bed, protectively holding the lenses in one of his hands. 

But he can’t find it in himself to rest his eyes, no matter how much his tired self wants him to. It’s like the anxiety that was so built up from earlier is making him exhausted, but that could also be the headache that’s rapidly growing the longer he stays under the bright lights.

After a few minutes, the same nurse from earlier walks back in but this time, she’s accompanied by a second nurse. As he sits back up and puts his glasses on, she asks with a kind smile on her face, “Hi, I hope you don’t mind, I brought someone who’s training with us and I want to show her your condition. Can you please show us your eyes again?”

_ What am I, a fucking circus act? _

The teenager takes off his “eye gear” again, refraining from groaning. He demonstrates the seeing double and just like he suspected, the trainee's eyes widen in shock. Said woman then blurts out, “Oh my God, that’s so crazy, I’ve never seen that before.”

_ Wow, way to make me feel like shit…. _

It is taking everything in Peter to not give his own non-G-rated snappy comeback. He bites the inside of his mouth until he starts to taste blood.

He hears the other nurse say “Thank you so much, I appreciate it. Someone will be with you shortly” but he barely registers it.

Because the severity of what that trainee just said smacks the kid right in the face.

Peter feels panic rise in him as he puts his “eye gear” back on...no one knows what’s wrong with him.

No one knows what’s wrong with him.

What if they  _ never _ figure out what’s wrong with him? What if he has to live with seeing double for the rest of his life? What if his vision gets worse and he ends up going blind?

_ Oh my God, what if I go blind? _

_ What if I can’t fix this? _

The teen finds himself having to take deep breaths to keep calm, focusing on the loud crunch of the paper beneath him, staring at his dangling feet that don’t quite reach the tile floor. He tries not to focus on the trembling that has formed in his fingers and  _ God, _ he wants Uncle Ben and  _ God, _ he wants food. 

And  _ God, _ he wants his vision to be fixed.

Is that too much to ask?

He takes off his glasses once again and lays back down on the hospital bed. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to take his mind miles away from this sterile medical center, tries not to think about the “what ifs” and the guessing and the not knowing and the  _ fear _ of not knowing.

The kid’s eyes are still closed when he feels his uncle gently shaking him with his shoulder. The man gives Peter his food once he sits up and puts his glasses back on.

It is a bland, ice-cold roast beef sandwich, but it’s better than nothing.

However, Peter had only taken a few bites before a doctor finally shows up. The teen goes through that same routine, trying not to seem too cranky but he’s exhausted and starving, sue him.

This doctor does about the same thing that the Urgent Care doctor did: he has Peter follow the light with his just his eyes, touch his nose with his fingertips, test his reflexes.

Same old, same old.

Ben relays to the doctor what the optometrist told them, and the professional says something that makes both Parkers whine, “If the problem is with the optic nerve, I think it might be best to take him to a neurologist. We could perform some tests here but they should have a better understanding of what’s going on.”

Oh look, yet another person who doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

_ So this was a waste of time too?! I’m just starving myself for nothing? _

Ben looks pissed but he tries not to show it, “Doc, we’ve been sitting here for like five hours -”

“I’m sorry that I can’t give you more information, but there truly isn’t anything more that I can do, I don’t have a clear picture of where to go from here...I’m sorry, Mr. Parker.” The doctor then tells them to “have a nice day” before walking away, not even bothering to give a recommendation for a good neurologist to go see.

The officer puts his hands on the bed on either side of Peter as said kid puts back on his “eye gear.” The teenager sees his guardian slump his head and let out a disgruntled sigh, leading him to say, “You’re really good at trying not to look angry.”

Ben chuckles, head still slumped down. He then lifts his head and smiles at the kid, “You ready to blow this joint?”

Peter nods enthusiastically as he takes another huge bite of his sandwich, determined to finish it before he sleeps for the next twelve hours.

May then walks into their “room” clad in scrubs, suggesting that she either just started her shift or is about to clock in, “Hey, someone told me you’re still here, how’d it go?”

The kid answers shortly, “It went.”

The woman gives him a sympathetic look and starts lovingly ruffling her nephew’s curls as her husband elaborates, “He didn’t know anything either. He suggested seeing a neurologist.”

A look of fear filters through May that doesn’t go unnoticed by her kid. She then asks uneasily, “Are-Are you serious?”

Ben nods solemnly, “Yeah...I don’t even know where to begin with that.”

“I’ll ask around, find out who’s a good one.” The woman then turns to her nephew, “Just be patient, sweetie, we’re gonna figure this out.”

Peter doesn’t know how to respond to that except to just nod his head.

May and Ben kiss each other goodbye and the man leads his kid to the car. Peter finishes his sandwich while on the way. 

The second they get home, the child conks out on the couch, too tired to continue worrying, too tired to even realize that his uncle had draped a blanket over him.

Another day of spring break wasted.

-

May got a recommendation for a good neurologist from one of her co-workers, so first thing the following morning, she calls to schedule an appointment. The earliest she could get is next Tuesday.

Two days after Peter starts back to school.

Since there’s nothing more any of them can do, the teen makes the most out of his last few days of break: he stays up late, sleeps in, hangs out with Ned. He tries not to constantly worry about his predicament even though that is much easier said than done.

His eyesight hasn’t improved but it hasn’t worsened either so the family takes that as a small mercy. 

Peter still has to wear the eyepatch when he goes back to school on Monday. He doesn’t get as many weird looks as he thought he would, even Flash is being surprisingly quiet about it. Whenever a teacher or someone does ask, he’d brush it off and say something like “I woke up with it.” 

Hey, it’s not a lie.

He takes off school on Tuesday and Ben takes him to that neurologist person. They check in, provide insurance, and fill out new patient forms while they wait. Thank God they don’t have to wait as long as they did at the hospital.

The place itself is very dated like they just walked into the 1970s. Ugly wallpaper covers one half of the walls while the other half is covered with beige wood paneling. The carpet is sporting an unappealing brown color, and even the seats in the waiting room look like they’re decades old.

The two Parkers soon get called back and a nurse has Peter go through the routine check-ups like getting his blood pressure and pulse rate, both of which are sky-high due to worry about what this appointment will bring. 

Afterward, they are brought into an exam room that looks no different than the waiting room. Peter hops onto the bed and Ben sits in a chair across from him. The nurse says that the doctor will be with them shortly before closing the door.

And they wait.

They both make small talk and joke how this feels like “deja vu all over again.”

And they wait.

Ben mentions getting something to eat after this is over and Peter eagerly agrees, glad that he has something to look forward to.

And they wait.

At long last, the doctor finally walks in, an older man with balding gray hair. He seems nice enough; he introduces himself, apologizes for the wait, and the like. He then wants his patient to demonstrate what’s going on.

For what feels like the thousandth time, Peter takes off his “eye gear” and shows him the problem.

But this doctor’s eyes don’t widen in shock like all the others did.

Instead, the man steps closer and really stares into them, almost too close for comfort if Peter’s being honest. After several seconds, the neurologist steps back and says, “This condition is called Diplopia but most everyone just calls it double vision. I can’t make a clear diagnosis because double vision is the cause of several things, I won’t know more until I get a closer look. However, it looks like both of your optic nerves could be having trouble transmitting information to your brain, thus making your vision distorted as it is.”

Peter shares a look of surprise with Ben. This guy might actually know what’s wrong with him, they might actually get  _ answers. _

The neurologist continues, turning to the teen’s guardian, “I want to get a closer look and see what the problems are residing his eyes, I want to pinpoint the exact cause of why this double vision is happening. I would like to conduct an MRI of his brain, and as soon as possible.”

Both Parkers look at each other again in utter shock before Ben confirms, “O-Of course, yeah, that would be great, thank you so much.” The cop concludes with a shake of the doctor’s hand.

They check out and get an MRI scheduled for two days from now. They make their way to the car and get some food, much more hopeful than they’ve been since this hell began.

-

The MRI is both stressful and calming at the same time.

One the one hand, a person just lays there unmoving, letting the machine do all the work.

But on the other hand, a person just lays there unmoving, and if they move on accident, the image could be blurred and the specialists won’t have a clear picture of what the problem could be. In turn, they would have to start the whole procedure over.

So yeah, stressful...but calming.

And that’s where Peter finds himself that Thursday afternoon. He’s not wearing his glasses or eyepatch so the inside of the machine is just a blurry, scattered mess to him. He listens to the soothing voice of the woman in charge, telling him the types of noises that are coming and how long they will take.

The boy takes solace in that because the noises are really fucking loud. 

The scan takes over an hour to complete and when it’s finished, the teenager is led to an exam room and told to wait until the doctor looks over the results. Ben soon joins him which is a relief to Peter...he didn’t want to be alone.

And they wait.

They wait for what feels like eons.

For some reason, this particular wait feels the longest even though nothing would ever beat that hospital visit. Maybe it’s the anticipation of knowing that they’re finally about to get some answers that’s making this wait feel like forever.

Eventually, that same doctor does walk in with some documents in his hands. He wastes no time after he greets them, tone solemn, “We have found white matter in his brain.”

Peter is both confused and frightened, but he’s trying not to show it.

_ White matter?  _

What the fuck is  _ white matter _ and why is it so bad? Is it some sort of brain damage? Is he going to lose his memory? Is he going to…?

_ No no no no no stop thinking like that, stop thinking like that, stop stop stop…. _

Ben’s tone turns serious, almost work serious, Peter notices, “What does that mean?”

“White matter is, in short, pale tissue in the brain and consists of nerve fibers, which helps transmit data to the brain. White matter tissue is already pretty bright in an MRI scan but in this case, the brightness seems to be a sign of an abnormality.”

The officer asks, a hint of annoyance at the beating-around-the-bush, “Which is….”

“In this case, the white matter in Peter’s brain is due to lesions in his brain...which is evidence that that tissue has suffered damages through some sort of injury. With that, symptoms tend to follow, hence the double vision.”

_ So...my brain is injured somehow...how does that happen, I haven’t banged my head or anything. _

Ben hesitates for a few seconds before asking, “And what do you think is the cause of...what’s happened to his brain, is it dangerous -”

The doctor cuts him off, “I want to do another MRI to be sure. Peter just did one without contrast and I want this next one to be with contrast so that I can get a closer look and see what we’re dealing with. But it looks like, with the white matter and the double vision, all the signs seem to be pointing to….”

The next two little letters that the neurologist says are ones that neither Parker ever expected in a million years, “MS.”

A silence floods through the exam room as the two of them take in this new information.

_ MS? Multiple Sclerosis? They talk about that on the news sometimes...that’s like...bad...that’s really really bad…. _

Again, Peter tries not to show any fear. He unconsciously wipes his newfound sweaty palms on his jeans and notices that his legs are dangling more aggressively than they were a few minutes ago but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t slow them down.

His guardian remains stoic but the teenager sees the look in his eyes, the look that no amount of acting can ever mask.

Uncle Ben is  _ scared. _

The older Parker then asks the doctor, trying not to show emotion, “Um, Doc...what exactly  _ is _ MS? I’ve heard of it but...what is it?”

The doctor remains neutral which both Parkers are grateful for, “In short, MS - Multiple Sclerosis - is a disease that affects your central nervous system, it’s an inflammatory disorder in which white blood cells enter the nervous system and can cause damage to your nerves, like with your optic nerves that caused the double vision.”

Ben looks so confused, “There’s no way, he’s too young, he’s  _ way _ too young to get anything like that -”

The doctor cuts him off, tone sympathetic, “Which is why I’m thinking the signs are pointing to... _Pediatric_ MS.”

Peter looks on in silence as his uncle asks, “What’s the difference?”

“There’s not a lot of differences actually, other than the age ranges. The average child diagnosed with Pediatric MS is around the age of thirteen. I’ve seen some children diagnosed with it as young as eleven. Children can have the same symptoms and relapses as adults but theirs are often more prominent, more serious...again, like with the double vision.”

“What do we do now?”

“I want to conduct that second MRI first, I want to be one hundred percent sure that that is what we’re looking at.”

Ben takes in a breath, “Okay...okay.”

The doctor says one last thing before leaving the room, “We’ll call you within a day or two to schedule another appointment.” He then turns to Peter, “I am truly sorry, I wish these were better results, but we’ve about figured it out, just hang in there.”

The boy nods his head, still choosing to stay quiet.

Once the man leaves the room, Ben stands in front of his kid and grips shoulder, smile on his face despite the fear that’s still lingering in his eyes, “Let’s go home, sport.”

-

The ride back home is a quiet one, almost silent other than the radio that is only on for background noise.

Peter has no idea what to do next, doesn’t know what to say, what to think, what to expect. This is all such new and scary territory.

The teen manages to say in a whisper, “Uncle Ben -”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, bud.” The older man grabs onto his nephew’s hand, “And we don’t even know still, his guesstimation could be completely wrong.”

The boy squeezes his grip on his guardian’s hand, tone still in a whisper, “He didn’t sound wrong.”

Ben squeezes back, “You’re right...he didn’t...but let’s say he  _ is _ right,” Peter tenses and the older man starts rubbing his kid’s hand with his thumb in an effort to soothe him, “If he is right, it’s not the end of the world, understand?”

Peter looks at his uncle, again, trying not to show his fear.

The cop continues, “I know it seems like it is, but...you’re gonna be okay. Whatever the outcome is,  _ you’re gonna be okay.” _

The boy somewhat reiterates what his uncle just said, “Okay...I’ll be okay...my eyesight will be fixed and it’ll all be okay….”

Ben smiles down at him, “That’s it, that’s it...I’m very proud of you, y’know.”

Peter grunts in disbelief, “What for?”

“For taking all of this like a champ. The way you’ve handled yourself, it was borderline badass, I’d be crying like a baby if I was doing this at your age.”

_ Trust me, I’ve wanted to. _

The teen can’t help but blush at the compliment, “No you wouldn’t’ve, you would’ve been a badass too -”

“Not like you, you’re  _ so _ much braver than I am, you just don’t know it.”

Peter rolls his eyes but it looks a bit silly since one is hidden behind the eyepatch, “Whatever you say,  _ officer.” _

Ben snorts at the sass, “And as a reward for your bravery...how does some ice cream sound?”

The boy’s eye brightens, “Amazing...um, can I have a milkshake?”

His guardian chuckles in exasperation, “Yes...you can  _ absolutely _ have a milkshake.”

-

Since this started out so hopeful, it was all bound to crash and burn.

That neurology practice never contacted the Parkers to schedule a second MRI for Peter. May even called a few times but couldn’t get through.

Not only did it seem like the place randomly dropped them as patients, but it also seemed like it dropped off the face of the Earth as a whole.

With no explanation necessary, all three of the family members are pissed.

But about a week after that last doctor’s appointment, a miracle happens:

Peter wakes up and can see perfectly.

Well, not  _ perfectly, _ he still needs his glasses to see, but he can see one of everything now.

Where there were two ceiling fans, there is now only one; same thing with his window and the door and everything else he owns.

His eyesight is back to normal.

Peter is so ecstatic that he trips over his own two feet while racing to see May and Ben, not realizing that he has to start readjusting himself to normal eyesight again.

After all the doctors’ appointments, the tests, the machines, the  _ waiting, _ everything is clear again.

It’s as if his vision was healed by magic.

Of course, the adults are equally as excited to see their kid with two working eyes again, so excited that they don’t worry about going to see another neurologist.

May isn’t keen on the idea of just dropping the case with Peter. Being a nurse, she knows about Multiple Sclerosis - if he actually has it - and the fact that this disease could go dormant for years before manifesting itself again, in a probable stronger form.

But for now, she basks in the comfort of her kid’s eyesight being back to normal, of him being  _ okay, _ and she’ll just take things one step at a time.

A couple of months after that revelation, Peter joins his class on that fateful trip to Oscorp and has an encounter with a spider that changes his life forever.

That spider changed everything about him, from the way he’s built to giving him weird powers, and his senses are so elevated that he doesn’t need his glasses to see anymore.

So if that spider made everything better….

Then that spider must’ve cured whatever that stuff was in his brain.

Whatever that doctor thought he had, he more than likely doesn’t have it anymore...because that weird spider cured it with its radioactive-ness.

So he has nothing to worry about anymore, Peter thinks. No more worrying about if his vision is going to randomly go double again, no more mundane doctors’ appointments...no more waiting.

He thinks back to what Uncle Ben said in the car.

_ You’re gonna be okay. _

And who would’ve thunk it that the man was right.

Peter is going to be absolutely and perfectly  _ okay. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out waaaaaay longer than expected 😂 I hope you enjoy!!!

And for the next two years, Peter was exactly that.

_ Okay. _

He didn’t have any more problems with his vision, almost forgotten that he had that stuff in his head in the first place.

Almost.

Sometimes Peter can’t help but think about it, even though he knows his powers cured it. His anxious mind loves taking him through the “what ifs” and “what could happens” despite the logical part of his brain knowing that nothing will actually happen.

But if he still keeps his eyepatch hidden deep in his backpack in case his vision does decide to go wonky again, well...no one needs to know that.

A lot has happened in those two years: Uncle Ben is devastatingly no longer among the living, Peter has taken up a double life as a friendly neighborhood vigilante, got recruited by  _ the _ Tony Stark to aid him in Germany, and had a “run-in” with his homecoming date’s dad.

It’s certainly never a boring day for Peter Parker.

But this particular Saturday afternoon  _ is _ a boring day in the best way possible: the sixteen-year-old is currently in his bedroom playing video games with Ned.

A completely and utterly ordinary day.

That is, until Peter starts to feel a tingling sensation on the left side of his lip.

The teen unconsciously rubs his tongue over his lips as he avoids banana peels and green shells, slowly losing more focus on the game in favor of putting his attention on whatever the fuck this is.

While keeping his mouth closed, the hero has his tongue go over every single tooth on that side of his mouth, feeling for any imperfection that could signal that something is wrong.

Could it be a cavity? Or is it something with his gums? Are his wisdom teeth coming in weird?

Peter has pretty much ignored both the game and his friend at this point, moving his mouth and tongue in a way that could mimic a cow eating its cud. He doesn’t even realize that the race has ended until Ned says, “Good Lord, didya fall asleep or something?”

“Huh?” The other genius snaps back to reality and looks at the TV screen to see that he finished the race in eighth place, “Oh....”

“Yeah what the hell happened, I hardly ever beat you at  _ Mario Kart.” _

The spiderling hesitates for a second before coming up with an excuse, “Um...that damn blue shell, man, baby Luigi’s brutal.”

Ned snorts disbelievingly, “Oooookay, anyway, your turn to pick.”

His friend blurts out another excuse as he’s getting up, trying to look and sound casual, “Hang on, gotta pee.”

When he gets to the bathroom, Peter leans over the sink until he’s right in front of the mirror and starts inspecting his mouth fully. 

Just in that short amount of time, the left side of his lip has graduated from tingling to now just numb, as if a dentist injected it with novocaine in preparation to pull out a tooth.

But he’s not at the dentist’s office and no one injected him with any kind of anesthetic...it just happened. And as Peter is inspecting his teeth, gums, in and all around his mouth, he doesn’t see anything wrong. Even after he takes out his phone and uses its flashlight to see better, there’s...nothing...everything looks fine.

There is nothing wrong with his mouth.

_ Okay, what the fuck? _

Maybe it’s a Spider-Man thing, Peter thinks, it could be some kind of mutation that’s about to take its course. Whatever mutation he’s about to get, he hasn’t a clue, but what else could it be?

The kid then decides to give up and look at it later, maybe something’s about to pop up and he has to get a cavity filled or something.

Not wanting to keep his friend waiting, the spider-boy walks back into his bedroom and starts another race, using  _ Mario Kart _ as a distraction from his ever-building thoughts.

He chooses not to tell anyone. Peter doesn’t want to worry them, especially if it’s some kind of mutation thing that will only take a day or two to appear, and if it is a cavity, he’ll tell May and she’ll take him to a dentist.

It’s just a mild inconvenience, whatever this thing is. It’ll be gone in no time so there’s no point in stressing about it, Peter thinks.

_ I have healing powers anyway, I’ll probably forget about it tomorrow. _

-

Well, tomorrow came and the numbness never faltered...nor did it falter the following day.

Or the day after that.

In actuality, Peter had to live with that numbness for a  _ week _ before it finally went away on its own. During that week, he did his best to eat and drink on the “good” side of his mouth because chewing food on the other side is about the oddest sensation he’s ever felt. The teenager can’t even describe it to himself let alone to anyone else, it’s like he can feel the food on that side but he can’t  _ feel _ it.

But when Peter wakes up one morning, that numbness is completely gone as if it was never there.

The spider-boy, again, inspects everything while in front of the bathroom mirror, looking out for anything he didn’t see before that could be the result of a mutation of some kind.

_ Aaaaaaand nothing. _

_ What the fuck is wrong with me? _

Since everything went away, there is no point in telling his aunt, mentor, or anyone about it; why worry them over something that’s no longer there?

So Peter sticks to his word and just continues his days like normal: he goes to school, patrols as Spider-Man, spends lab time with Tony, hangs out with Ned, attends decathlon meetings. Soon, he forgets about that weird numbness, chalking it up to some kind of fluke.

And for the next couple of weeks, he is fine...he is  _ okay. _

But then one night, at around two in the morning, he finds himself startled awake, not by a noise he heard, or any kind of imminent threat.

Instead, he’s awake because of his head, his head that is now throbbing.

_ Throbbing. _

Throbbing like his right temple just acquired a heartbeat and is making up for lost time.

Peter continues feeling the vibrations as he sits up on his bed, hand covering the right side of his head in an effort to stop the pulsing.

But it doesn’t.

It keeps going for about a full ten seconds, freaking Peter out so much that he pushes the covers away and moves to sit on the edge of his bed, feet planted firmly on the carpet and his gaze on the dimly lit hallway through his open door.

_ Please stop, please stop, please stop, for the love of shit, please stop…. _

Finally, it stops, making Peter sigh in relief. He then drops his hand and rubs the sweat on his boxers because  _ yes, _ he really broke out in a sweat in just those few seconds. 

He takes a few deep breaths to calm down from everything and he gingerly lays back down on his bed, covers still pushed back.

_ Okay...now what the fuck was that? _

Peter continues heavily breathing as he settles more into his pillow, gaze still set on that hallway because if he can see the light from the hallway, that means he can see the picture frames on the wall and miscellaneous items that are in his room.

Because once he sees those objects then he knows his vision is fine and it hasn’t screwed up again. 

How stupid is he that he now relies on light to make sure his eyesight is okay...when he  _ knows _ the spider bite cured it.

Peter sighs again when he feels his heartbeat start to lessen, rubbing more sweat on the sheet below him. 

_ Okay...that was weird...understatement of the year. _

He pulls the covers over himself and curls up in bed, trying to forget about  _ that _ and focusing on just getting back to sleep.

But instead of sleeping, his mind does what it does best: 

Wanders.

Peter starts thinking, overthinking about what just happened and what it means. Was that a weird form of a headache, even though his head doesn’t actually hurt? Is something wrong with his head? Or his brain?

He tenses up at that and unconsciously tightens his grip on his comforter.

_ No...there’s no way…. _

_ They can’t be connected. _

No way is the throbbing connected to the double vision, because the double vision is  _ cured _ and he really needs to stop thinking about it so much.

Obviously, this is another fluke...a scarier fluke than the numbness but a fluke, nonetheless.

_ It’s gotta be another Spider-Man thing, I mean, what the hell else could it be? _

So Peter stays firm in his belief that the spider bite is the reason for this. Whatever this is, it’ll soon go away, just like with the numbness.

_ Yeah...it’ll all go away. _

-

It doesn’t.

Over the next few days, the throbbing would pop up at random times and continue for a few seconds before it magically disappears, always in the same spot around his right temple.

It’s happened at school, on patrol, in the lab, but mostly when he accidentally lays his head on its right side in bed and for some fucking reason, that seems to trigger it.

With each bout of the throbbing, the spiderling gets more and more scared, starting to think of outrageous reasons as to why this is happening: is it a concussion that he doesn’t remember getting, or a brain aneurysm, or  _ fuck, _ is it a brain tumor?!

Despite the growing anxiety, the boy is too stubborn to tell anyone, still caught up in this belief that his healing powers will just fix it and the throbbing will finally go away.

However, it happens again while on the subway on his way home from school...and this round feels longer than the others.

Again, Peter holds the right side of his head to try and get it to stop - it never works, he doesn’t know why he keeps doing it - with his knee bouncing so fast that it has a mind of its own.

The teen feels himself breaking out into a sweat once again and saying the same chant in his head over and over.

_ Please stop, please stop, please stop, please stop…. _

Finally, it does, causing the kid to lean his head against the window and briefly close his eyes in relief. As the subway approaches his stop, he rubs his sweaty hands on his jeans, only one thought on his mind:

_ That’s it, I’m telling May. _

-

The second Peter gets home, he sees his aunt in the kitchen and settles into a stool at the counter. May greets him while she’s tending to something in the crockpot for dinner and much to her kid’s relief, she has her back to him. 

The young hero takes in a breath while rubbing off more sweat on his jeans, “Um...Aunt May?”

“Yeah?”

“Um...uh-uh my...my head throbs sometimes and-and I don’t know why...I don’t know what to do.”

May turns to him in concern, “Throbbing how?”

Her nephew shrugs, “Uh, I don’t know, it’s just...it’s like when you cut your finger and it starts throbbing, it’s-it’s like that, but I haven’t hit my head or done anything to make my head do that.”

_ At least not in a while. _

His guardian puts the lid on the crockpot and walks over to him to inspect his head, “Is it all over your head or -”

“No, uh, just the right side...around my temple.” Peter starts to feel his aunt start to grab ahold of his head and flinches at the contact, “Don’t touch it!”

May recoils, startling her, “What, why?”

“‘Cuz if you touch it, it might start throbbing again...and I’ve already looked, my head looks fine.” The genius sees the baffled look in her eye and says defensively, “I know it’s weird but I swear, it’s happened. Sometimes if I lay on that side, it’ll throb.”

“This, um...well, this is interesting and -”

Peter cuts her off, deciding to just come out with it, “And my lip went numb a couple weeks ago.”

May’s eyes widen in shock, “Wait, what the fuck -”

“I know, I know, I...I don’t know why and I was scared to tell you.”

His aunt gently grabs her kid’s jaw and starts inspecting his lip. Peter knows it’s a wasted effort but lets her look anyway, taking in the comfort of her maternal warmth. She then asks, “How long was it numb?”

“‘Bout a week.”

“And it just came up out of nowhere?”

The teenager nods his head.

May tilts her kid’s head to get a good look, making sure to avoid touching it, “And the throbbing, how long has that been going on?”

“Also about a week...it’s not throbbing right now but it did on the way here.” Peter rolls his eyes at the overprotectiveness but still playfully smirks all the same.

The nurse soon lets go and takes a small step back to get a good look at her kid. 

Peter knows exactly the look she’s giving him. He can’t explain how he knows, he just does.

_ Is this connected to the double vision? _

But May doesn’t say anything, to her charge’s relief...he can believe his healing powers cured the stuff in his head for just a while longer.

The woman leans against the counter in thought. After a few seconds, she says hesitantly, “We can’t take you to the hospital.”

“Yeah...the tower does have a medbay.”

“I know you don’t wanna go -”

“But you think I should.”

The older Parker gives him a worried look, “Peter, this is happening for a reason...it can’t hurt to at least get looked at.”

_ Shit. _

Peter props his elbows on the counter and puts his head in his hands, afraid to show his aunt any fear. It doesn’t work, however, when he feels that same familial comfort rubbing his back in soothing circles. May then says encouragingly, “I know it’s scary, sweetie, but we gotta figure this out...at least at the tower, the people there might actually know what to do.”

Despite the situation, her child snorts, “And maybe they won’t drop us this time.”

May smiles, “Yeah, something tells me that Tony won’t let that happen.”

_ Oh God, I have to tell Mr. Stark. _

“So, um...when do you wanna go?”

His guardian glances at the time on the crockpot before turning back to him, “I don’t see why we can’t go now...if you’re up for it.”

_ Wait, now? Like...like  _ now, _ now? But I have homework. _

“Yeah...okay, let’s do it, I guess.”

-

May calls Tony as they leave and since Peter is too afraid to say anything, she gives the man a brief rundown, prompting him to meet them at the entrance when they arrive.

In no time, the teenager is ushered into an exam room, closely followed by his loved ones, no paperwork or insurance required. Peter sits on the paper-covered hospital bed and May sits in a chair next to him while Tony leans against the bed next to his kid.

A few seconds later, Dr. Bruce Banner comes in and closes the door behind him, making both Parkers look at each other in surprise.

_ Damn, no waiting either, where was this two years ago? _

The doctor puts on a sympathetic smile as he greets his patient, “Hey, Peter, how’s it going?”

Said teen shrugs, “Um...okay.”

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Peter does. He explains the numbness, the throbbing, when it happened, how long it lasted, what led to him and May coming here.

Bruce nods in a neutral manner that doesn’t let on any sort of reaction or opinion which is a great change from the looks of shock that all the other professionals gave that are still so vivid in the young genius’s mind.

Tony, on the other hand, looks at his protege in concern, “Kid, why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I didn’t wanna worry you...or May.”

“Jesus Christ, Pete -”

“I’m sorry, I was just...I was scared, alright? It all kinda freaked me out.”

_ More than kinda. _

The billionaire gently squeezes his intern’s shoulder in comfort as Bruce asks, “Peter, have you had any other symptoms, any that were particularly unusual like these?”

Peter looks at his aunt in fear. She gives him a kind smile and asks, “Do you want to tell them or me?”

The teenager takes a breath and hangs his head in shame. Judging by the grip tightening on his shoulder, he can only guess the look that his father figure is giving him.

He then lifts his head and tells Bruce about the double vision: how it happened, all the mundane doctors’ visits, the tests...but the kid does refrain from telling them the results and what that doctor thought he could have. If he doesn’t say it, it won’t be spoken into the void.

It won’t be true.

Tony blurts out once Peter is done, “They dropped you, are you fucking kidding me -”

May cuts him off, “Peter...baby, they have to know everything.” At seeing her nephew shake his head, she turns to the doctor, “The neurologist we went to found white matter in his brain.”

Bruce turns to her in surprise, “Really?”

“Yes, he was going to administer another MRI to make sure but he guesstimated that Peter might have...Pediatric MS -”

The teenager cuts in, “But the spider bite fixed it.”

Tony says, keeping a worried gaze on the kid, “How do you know?”

“‘Cuz the spider bite fixed everything else: it gave me muscles, I can see without glasses, why  _ wouldn’t _ it fix that?”

Bruce asks, “Have you had any more vision problems?”

“No.”

_ Thank God. _

The doctor then has his patient do a similar routine that the other doctors did: touch his nose with his fingertips, follow the popsicle stick with just his eyes, use that same hammer-thing to test his reflexes.

Bruce then says, “Your eyesight seems good to me but I still want to conduct an MRI; I want to remove all doubt that the spider bite fixed everything.”

Fear filters the kid, “What -”

Tony cuts him off with soft shushes and starts rubbing the back of his kid’s neck, “Hey, it’s alright, he’s just doing this as a precaution.” He turns to the man in question, “When do you wanna do the MRI?”

“As soon as possible, I can do one as early as tomorrow.”

_ Wait, tomorrow?! What the fuck, I’m not prepared for this! _

May confirms, “That’d be great, can he get it done after school?”

“Yeah, absolutely, I’ll add it to the schedule.”

Bruce then says his goodbyes and leaves the room, but the teenager is too out of it to notice, instead focusing on the fact that he has to get  _ another _ MRI done.

He hears the comforting voices from his aunt and father figure and while he knows they mean well, he’s just not in the mood to act like he’s okay, to pretend that this isn’t a big deal.

Because there’s something deep down inside him that knows that this MRI isn’t just for a precaution.

-

This MRI experience is significantly better than the previous for one reason and one reason only:

Dr. Banner lets him  _ listen to music, _ making the blaring noises from the machine much more manageable. 

Peter resists the urge to bob his head to the music as he lays in that huge scanner, staring out the window above him that gives him a view of a perfect blue sky.

About halfway through the procedure, a nurse pricks his arm and injects him with some kind of dye she calls a “contrasting solution” that will better enhance the picture.

_ Wait, that’s the MRI with contrast? Why didn’t the other doctor just do that in the first place? _

After that, the scan goes as expected and once he’s done, Bruce tells him that he needs a day or two to look them over. The kid decides to go to the lab to hang out with his mentor, the perfect medicine to get his mind off of...things.

Tony doesn’t ask about the MRI which the teen is grateful for. They make small talk as they conduct their respective projects, both parties making sure not to bring up the elephant in the room. 

Because again, if nothing is said, then nothing will be spoken into the void...then everything will be fine.

_ Maybe Mr. Stark is thinking the same thing. _

This whole “in denial” lab session continues until the teen has to go back home. When he arrives, the two Parkers do the exact same thing: they talk so much that it’s almost impossible to avoid the topic about the “what ifs” and “what might be’s.”

But they do.

And as Peter settles into bed that night, he finds himself wishing that he can turn his mind off like a light switch, to stop overthinking and jumping to the worst-case scenarios.

Before the kid finally dozes off, he does have one positive thought on his mind:

At least his head isn’t throbbing.

-

The two Parkers are back in the exam room a couple of days later to go over the results with Bruce and Tony. Once the doctor comes in and says his pleasantries, he pulls up a picture on a big computer screen.

It is a picture of Peter’s brain, showing the basic outline of the organ from different angles the MRI scanned. It’s a completely normal picture…

Except for a few faint white spots scattered throughout it...Peter doesn’t need Bruce to tell him what those spots represent.

_ White matter.  _

The same white matter that that first doctor probably saw years ago.

Peter unconsciously grabs ahold of the hospital bed, gripping so tightly that he wonders if he’ll have hand cramps tomorrow...but hand cramps are the least of his worries.

_ The spider bite didn’t fix it...the spider bite didn’t fix it, the spider bite didn’t fix it, why the  _ fuck _ didn’t the spider bite fix it?! _

Bruce then starts explaining what the teenager already knows, “As you can see here, there are a few white spots in his brain.” He pauses to show them a few more pictures from different angles, “This is called ‘white matter.’ The white matter here shows that some tissue has been damaged, which then leads to the symptoms Peter has been experiencing like the double vision, the numbness, even the throbbing, it all seems to be connected.”

_ Fuck, I was afraid of that. _

The doctor continues, tone more sympathetic, “Everything, the symptoms, the scans here...it all looks to be showing signs of Pediatric MS.”

There’s those two little letters again.

Everyone in the room gets so eerily quiet that Peter swears he can hear his anxiety rising, if that’s even a thing. He tightens his grip on the hospital bed but eases up when he feels the cotton start to spill out from him puncturing the fabric. His legs are dangling more aggressively than before and he doesn’t have the heart to look at either loved one, too scared to see their reactions. The teen then feels the warmth of his father figure’s hand covering one of his own and he can’t help but focus more on that than anything else.

May then asks, seemingly calm but her nephew can sense the nervousness, “What happens now?”

“I don’t like assuming or guesstimating, I want to conduct a test that will confirm that what I am saying is true because there is a chance I could be wrong. Again, I want to remove all doubt. The best way to test for this particular illness is a spinal tap.” Bruce turns to his patient, “Do you know what a spinal tap is?”

“Um...something to do with spinal fluid?”

“Correct, I’m sure May can fill in all the gaps but the gist of it is: we numb the base of your spine and we use a needle to extract the spinal fluid. It’s a relatively fast procedure but you need to take the whole day off of school, you need to rest for the remainder of the day.”

May adds on, facing her nephew, “Extracting spinal fluid can cause minor headaches, backaches, that’s why it’s important for you to rest afterwards. It isn’t painful, you won’t feel anything, sweetie, I promise.”

Tony squeezes his kid’s hand and gets his attention, “At least one of us will be with you the whole time.” He turns to Bruce, “Do you have the right sedative? He’s enhanced, regular anesthesia won’t cut it -”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ve taken everything into account. I called up a couple associates to conduct the procedure, I just need to give them a time. How does the end of next week sound?”

May answers for her kid, “Of course, um...yeah, that’d be great. I assume you want to do this in the morning?”

“Yes.” Bruce turns to his patient, “Peter, you can’t eat anything after midnight the night before and I know with your metabolism, it’s gonna be hard, so I’m scheduling it for first thing in the morning.”

_ Great, I’m gonna have a headache before the damn thing even starts. _

Peter nods his head in understanding, too afraid he might stutter and let on how scared he is if he says anything.

Bruce soon says his goodbyes and leaves. When the door closes, the teenager slumps his shoulders, not even realizing how tense he was. He feels his hero tighten his grip and sees May stand up and start to rub comforting soothing circles on his back, not unlike what she did before this necessary nightmare started. The boy hears his aunt say, “It’s gonna be okay” and it takes him back to the time when Ben said it after the first guesstimation.

_ You're gonna be okay. _

What Peter wouldn’t give to have his uncle here right now. As much as he loves Tony...Tony just isn’t Uncle Ben.

The mechanic gently pulls his kid’s chin towards him to get his attention. The teen sees the man’s eyes soften and he looks away from his gaze.

_ Wow, I must be doing a terrible job of acting like I’m okay. _

Tony then says, keeping his tone gentle, “Hey...let’s go get something to eat, what d’ya think?”

Peter nods his head once more but this time he does manage to choke out, “Yeah...um, yeah, yeah sounds good, um...yeah.”

So Tony takes both Parkers out for an early dinner. Both adults do what they can to avoid  _ that _ topic and keep the conversation light, while the young genius does his best to act like he’s good, like he’s  _ okay _ when in reality, he can’t get the image of those white spots out of his mind.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get those spots out of his mind.

Both physically  _ and _ mentally.

-

Peter stays with Tony the night before the spinal tap so it can be done as soon as possible the following morning. 

The boy is laying in bed, much too wired to sleep. He hears his stomach rumble, telling him it’s digesting the two pizzas he had before bed, choosing to eat late in the hopes that he won't be unbearably hungry during the procedure.

He runs a mental checklist yet again about what he has to do: don’t eat anything after midnight, drink plenty of water in the morning, no vigorous activity for a day or two afterward. 

Such a simple checklist for a simple procedure about a  _ very _ complex overarching question.

_ My life in a nutshell. _

The spiderling hears Tony brushing his teeth in the bathroom across the hall and he is already prepared to pretend to be asleep when the man walks by, knowing that he’ll use those paternal instincts that the older hero keeps hilariously denying he has and peek in to check on him.

The billionaire finishes and starts to walk off in the direction of his bedroom but not before turning off the bathroom light.

Making the hallway and Peter’s bedroom damn near pitch black.

The kid shouts abruptly, “Mr. Stark!”

Tony pokes his head into the doorway, face etched in concern, “What is it? I thought you’d be asleep by now -”

“The light!” 

“Wha - oh shit.” The genius hurriedly walks back and turns on that bathroom light, dimming it so it won’t be too bright to keep the kid awake.

Peter will be awake regardless but it’s a nice gesture.

Said teen sighs in relief at the light turning back on while also mentally kicking himself at this stupid newfound fear of the dark.

Well, the fear goes much deeper than just the dark but eh, whatever. 

His father figure pokes his head back into his kid’s room, “Sorry 'bout that, you good now?”

_ Hell fucking no. _

“Yeah, thanks.”

Tony then casually leans against the doorway and looks at the kid with a worried expression on his face, “You’ve always liked having a light on.”

“Um...uh, yeah, doesn’t everyone? I mean if I have to pee in the middle of the night, I don’t wanna stub my toe or anything, y’know?”

_ Pleeeease don’t see through my bullshit. _

The older man’s eyebrows furrow in confusion but the worry doesn’t falter, “Uh-huh…” he then walks into the room and sits on the edge of his intern’s bed, causing the kid to shift slightly to make room. Tony gives the tyke another concerned look and says, “But most people don’t shout like that when the light is turned off.”

_ Fuck, he saw through my bullshit. _

“Um, it just caught me off guard -”

_ “Peter, _ you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, I just...I wanna help you, that’s all.”

The kid turns to lay on his side, facing his mentor, “You’ve already done enough,  _ more _ than enough.”

Tony grunts, “Really? ‘Cuz I don’t feel like I have.”

“What?”

The older man sighs, “I’ve been thinking a lot over the past week.”

“‘Bout what?”

“You...you and what happened, and what’s happening now.”

“And what might happen?”

“It’s kinda impossible not to, isn’t it?”

Peter nods his head against his pillow, “Same here.” He then takes in a breath and decides to give in, “I get scared sometimes.”

“Uh-huh….”

“Of like...my vision going all weird again.”

“The double vision?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s valid, that must’ve been really scary.”

Peter again nods his head, “It was, it just, it literally happened overnight: one night, my vision was kinda blurry and the next day, I was seeing two of everything...none of us knew what the hell it was, not even the fucking doctors knew.”

“I wish I was there.”

“Me too. But um, but yeah, I sometimes get scared it’ll happen again so...so whenever my eyes are playing tricks on me or something I just...I look at the light, and when I see one of everything, I...it’s good again, if that makes sense.”

The older hero starts softly rubbing his kid’s upper arm and smiles reassuringly as everything clicks into place, “It does. Pete, that’s nothing to be ashamed of -”

“But it’s still stupid. I still keep my eyepatch with me in case it happens again.”

“You wore an eyepatch?”

“Yeah, it didn’t fix the double vision but focusing on one eye made things easier. And you missed out, Mr. Stark, how many people do you know wear eyepatches under their glasses?”

Tony snickers, “Oh,  _ none _ as cool as you, I’m sure.”

His kid chuckles at that himself, but it falls as fast as it came, “Um...Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this a scary thing I’m getting done tomorrow? And be honest.”

“I promise, it’s not gonna be that bad, you’re just gonna lay on your stomach and let the doctors do the work, you won’t feel a thing. I can bet money that you’ll actually be more bored than scared.”

“Really?”

“Yep. You want me to come with you? I know May can’t make it.”

Peter hesitates. As much as he wants him to come, he doesn’t want to inconvenience him, “That’s okay, you don’t have to -”

“Pete,  _ do you want to come with you?” _

The kid gives in and nods his head, smiling sheepishly, “But what if  _ you _ get bored?”

“First of all, I’ll suck it up, and second of all, you won’t be asleep during this, you just won’t feel what they’re doing back there, so we can still shoot the shit until you get sick of me.”

“Which’ll be never.”

“You flatter me.” Tony gives the tyke one last comforting rub before letting go, “I know you got a lot on your mind, bud, but try and get some sleep, okay? I’m just down the hall if you need me.”

The spider-boy nods his head defeatedly and settles into his pillow, “‘Night and thanks for this...thanks for everything.”

Tony gives him a light kiss goodnight on the top of his head and says, “Anytime, kiddo, and by the way, nothing that you just told me is stupid, nowhere near it.”

Peter feels a warmth filter through him and he smiles as he watches his father figure leave the room. It feels like an eternity, but the teenager does eventually doze off to sleep, trying and failing to keep his mind off of what’s to come.

-

The morning arrives much too soon and Peter is ushered to medbay not long after he gets up, still clad in sweats and stomach already growling as if he hasn’t eaten in a week. Once in an exam room, Bruce gives him a hospital gown to change into - keeping his boxers on,  _ thank God _ \- and says someone will pick him up shortly. As instructed, the hero drinks water to stay hydrated.

This particular exam room is different than the one he’s been in before. Instead of a hospital bed, there is a leather recliner with blankets neatly folded on the seat. It must be for after the operation, Peter thinks.

As he’s waiting and drinking fluids, the kid’s mind starts to wander. How long with this take? What if they pick the wrong anesthesia and it’s actually going to really fucking hurt? How long will he have to be on bed rest? Can he stay at the tower while he’s on bed rest? And the million-dollar question: 

_ Where’s Mr. Stark?  _

_ He said he’d be here...maybe he had a meeting or something? _

Peter tries not to get upset, he’s sixteen, sixteen and a damn superhero, he’ll be fine going through this alone.

Alone with a bunch of doctors conducting a procedure that he never thought he’d ever have done.

But it’s fine...it’s  _ fiiiiiiiine_. 

A doctor comes in a few minutes later and after they exchange awkward greetings, she gives him an overview of what’s about to happen: the numbness of his back, the needle puncturing the skin, extracting the fluid. It takes everything in Peter to not shudder at the cringe.

_ Oh my God, can we just get on with it? _

The doctor then leaves and the nurse comes in with a wheelchair. Peter doesn’t know why he has to sit in a wheelchair when the thing hasn’t happened yet but he obliges without argument. He is then wheeled into another room and is instructed to lay on his stomach on the thankfully padded operating table, taking in the view around him.

It is a small operating room containing cabinets, a sink, a few chairs for loved ones to sit, and a rolling cart filled with the necessary supplies. Above him is a huge light that the kid guesses is for them to see, like a larger version of a light that dentists use to inspect people’s teeth. 

The nurse then preps him for the spinal tap: opens his hospital gown from the back, sterilizes the area they’ll be puncturing, getting too close to the hemline of his boxers for comfort but Peter bites his tongue...this whole damn experience is too close for comfort, in all honesty.

The doctor from earlier then walks in, along with another doctor to carry out the procedure, and closely followed by the one person that Peter has been desperately wanting to see: 

Iron Man.

The teenager relaxes as his mentor sits in a chair across from him, his presence providing a sort of comfort that everything will be okay, it will be okay because Tony will make sure that everything is okay, damn it.

The mechanic starts making small talk, “How’s it going?”

His charge shrugs, “Just hanging out.”

“Yeah, it looks it.”

Peter grunts, thankful for the attempt at humor. 

Once the doctors are prepped, the spinal tap finally starts.

The kid feels a slight prick that he guesses is the anesthesia and is proven right when he feels a numbness form on the small of his back, not unlike the feeling he had in his lip just a few weeks prior.

Now,  _ this _ is by far the weirdest sensation he’s ever felt. How can he not feel anything but also feel  _ something? _

Curiosity gets the better of him and he starts to look back to see what’s going on but Tony gently pushes his cheek back to face him. The older man says, “I wouldn’t do that, it might weird you out. But everything’s going the way it’s supposed to.”

Peter nods defeatedly and lays his head on his folded hands, facing his hero, “I’m already weirded out.”

“You’re not hurting, are you?”

“No, it’s just...I don’t feel the needle but I still  _ feel _ the needle.”

“Yeah it’s weird, isn’t it?”

The kid nods his head.

The two heroes continue making small talk until the procedure is finished. Peter is then wheeled into that same room he changed in and sits in that recliner. The nurse pushes the lever so he can lean back in the chair and then drapes a blanket over him.

Before she leaves the room, the nurse tells him he needs to lay here for about thirty minutes so his body can settle down and there’s less chance of backaches. 

Now Peter is left alone. The room is silent sans the continuous growling in his stomach, counting down the minutes until he can finally eat something.

His minor headache starts growing gradually the longer he lays there and he can’t tell if it’s because of the procedure, the lack of food consumption, or the bright lights that he really regrets not telling the nurse to turn off.

Tony didn’t follow him this time and the kid is thankful for it. With the growing headache, he is also growing more sleepy...maybe he could just lay here for the whole day.

But that means he’d have to get up and turn the lights off, who wants to do that? 

Thirty minutes pass and the nurse gives him the okay to change back into his clothes. The billionaire walks in not long afterward and helps Peter to the living room on the other side of the tower. He lays him down on the couch and drapes a blanket over him, the kid sighing in relief as he finally relaxes. No one was kidding when they said he’d experience backaches if he stood up for too long because he could already feel the stinging making itself known on the way here.

The rest of the day is spent in wonderful laziness containing food, plenty of fluids, Netflix, and lots and lots of sleep.

At one point, Peter wakes up to feel his pillow resting on his father figure’s outer thigh. Tony gives him an amiable smile and greets him, “Hey, sleepyhead. What is this, your fourth nap?”

The tyke smiles serenely, “Yeah, but who’s counting?”

Tony snorts as he props his feet on the coffee table, “How’re you feeling?”

Peter yawns before he answers, “Good...I’m so glad we did this on a Friday.”

“Me too, how else am I gonna keep you all weekend?”

“May’s gonna wanna see me eventually, y’know.”

“Well, for  _ one small fee, _ she can walk right up to the fence and feed you.”

“If it’s her meatloaf, I’ll drop dead.”

Both heroes crack up at that and then Tony says, “It can’t be that bad.”

“One time, she made one and it was still red in the middle, I had to eat around it, it was torturous. Thanks to her, I can’t even  _ look _ at meatloaf without gagging, let alone eat one.”

The older man continues laughing, “So your last meal of choice won’t be meatloaf, I presume?”

“If I ate that again, it  _ will _ be my last meal. How would you feel having that on your conscience?”

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I think that’d make a  _ great _ epitaph, 'Death by Killer Meatloaf.'”

Peter smiles, still snickering, “My legacy, I’ll take it.”

Once the father-son duo calms down, Tony’s voice turns more serious, “Bruce told me it’ll take two weeks to run the tests, then we’ll go over the results.”

His kid’s smile falls instantly, “So in two weeks, we’ll know?”

“Yep.” The man starts mindlessly ruffling his protege’s hair, “Whatever happens, y’know I’m gonna be here, right?”

The spider-boy nods his head, “I just can’t help but get scared, y’know?”

“I don’t blame ya, I’d be too. Try not to worry about all the negatives, okay, we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.”

Peter is grateful for his mentor saying  _ “if _ we get to it” instead of “when we” because it gives him a beacon of hope that this rules out whatever they’re thinking instead of confirming it.

Just two more weeks and all doubt will be removed.

_ Two more weeks. _

-

Those two weeks pass like super speed and before they know it, everyone is back in the exam room waiting for Bruce to come in.

May and Tony make small talk and they try to include Peter but he’s too anxious to form a coherent sentence, too many thoughts swirling in his brain to focus on anything else.

Bruce soon walks into the room with a friendly smile on his face but the teen sees the sadness in his eyes.

_ Please no. _

Much like with the other doctor years ago, this one cuts right to the chase after saying his greetings, talking slowly as if the man himself wants to stall for as long as possible, “The test came back positive for Multiple Sclerosis.”

Right away, Peter feels his arms and legs get prickly with goosebumps, shivering at the unexpected chill. He feels like he should say something, but...what the fuck else  _ is _ there to say?

He has Pediatric Multiple Sclerosis.

He has a chronic illness.

And there is no cure.

_ There is no cure. _

Tony immediately turns to his kid and gives him a comforting grip on his upper arm. He then whispers, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s not the end of the world. Remember, we caught this  _ early, _ that’s a good thing.”

The teenager looks at him and tries to smile but he just  _ can’t. _

It’s known that Iron Man can fix anything...but he can’t fix this one.

_ So...what happens now? _

Can Peter still be Spider-Man? He doesn’t actually feel sick, at the moment, there’s no real reason for him to not be a hero, right? 

Right?

What are the treatments going to be like? Can he still be a normal kid?

Can he still have a normal  _ life? _

He has so many questions but he has no idea how to go about them. How in the hell does one ask questions?

Thank God, May talks for him, even though her own voice is shaky, “What are, um...what are the next steps, Dr. Banner?”

“The first thing is to discuss treatment. Normally, children are given the same treatments as adults but with a reduced dosage. However, in Peter’s case, with his enhanced abilities and metabolism, I’m confident that he’ll need the full amount.”

_ Full amount of what? _

Peter looks on in silence as the other adults talk, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers and finding that staring at his aggressively dangling feet is the most interesting thing in the world right now.

May then asks, “What kind of treatment do you think is best for his powers to not combat it? Are we talking him taking a pill or injection or something else?”

Her nephew’s head snaps right up at that. 

_ Wait, I have to take shots, like inject the shots  _ myself? _ I don’t wanna take shots, I hate needles! _

Bruce answers, “The options are up to you. With the full dosage, he shouldn’t have a problem taking it with his powers but I think your best course of action is the injection, there are far less side effects with that than with the pill I’d prescribe if you guys went that route.”

_ Side effects? _

The doctor continues, “With the injection, the main side effects to consider are skin irritation, redness, and slight pain at the injection site.”

_ Pain?! _

Bruce keeps going, “But with the pill, Peter will have to come and get blood work done every few months because one of those side effects is a decrease in his white blood cell count.”

_ Shit, the shot sounds better. _

May looks at her kid with worry before asking Bruce, “Can we take a day or two to think about it?”

“Oh yeah, of course, I wouldn’t dwell on it for too long, though, I want to get the treatment locked in as soon as possible.”

_ Why-why-why, what’s gonna happen if I wait? Will the numbness come back, the wonky vision, the throbbing, will  _ all _ of it come back? _

Peter finds himself getting more and more panicked the longer he thinks about it. He hears Bruce say more medical stuff, “He needs to get an MRI done every year so we can monitor his condition.” “Symptoms can still occur, but they can’t be treated, so he’ll just need to watch for them.” “If a symptom happens for more than twenty-four hours, it’s considered a ‘relapse’ and he needs to be brought back here as soon as possible.”

He knows it’s all supposed to be helpful but right now it’s  _ not, _ it’s too much and he can’t take it, he just wants to go home and cry.

But then Peter feels a build-up from deep in his gut and he finds himself having to take elongated breaths because he actually  _ is _ about to cry and the last thing on this earth that he wants to do is cry in front of everyone here.

His body has other ideas, however, as he feels this build-up rise higher and higher. Whatever this is has triggered his tear ducts and his eyes are watering but he won’t let them roll down, he  _ won’t, _ damn it, he won’t cry in front of an audience.

_ Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. _

Peter takes more silent breaths, biting one of his fingers to keep from breaking down. He then feels his father figure firmly grip his free hand for a split second before letting go. The man turns to his fellow Avenger, “Bruce, I wanna talk to you outside.”

Of course Tony knows he’s about to blubber like a baby, but the teenager is too busy concentrating to be embarrassed. He doesn’t hear Bruce’s response but it must’ve been “yes” because both men start to make their to the door and Peter cannot feel more relieved since  _ he’s about to fucking cry. _

_ Hurry up and leave, holy fuck, leeeeeave. _

The second that door closes, everything falls apart and Peter breaks down in tears, and not the kind where one tears up at the end of a heartfelt movie.

He is  _ bawling. _

And he knows exactly why….

He’s scared.

He is so fucking scared.

Of the treatment, will it work, is it expensive, what happens if it doesn’t work, his future...whether or not he’ll  _ have _ a future.

But then he feels two arms wrap around him in a hug, instantly recognizing the touch is from May. He immediately reciprocates and hugs back, holding on for dear life, and neither one gives a damn that he’s getting the collar of her shirt wet with tears.

His aunt gives him shushing sounds and shaky reassurances while stroking his back, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s alright, we’re-we’re gonna figure this out, I promise...we always do.”

Peter nods wordlessly against her neck, still crying. May continues, “And it’s not the end of the world, this disease isn’t a death sentence, understand? You’re gonna live a happy and healthy life, if I have anything to say about it.”

Her nephew nods again and continues crying for what feels like an eternity. When he does simmer down to sniffles, he can hear Ben’s words from years ago still ringing in his ears.

_ You’re gonna be okay. _

And he holds onto that...because he will go insane if he doesn’t.

_ You’re gonna be okay. _

_ You’re gonna be okay. _

Peter whispers to himself, soft enough so May can’t hear him, “You’re gonna be okay.”

-

For Peter’s sake, Tony knew he had to get him and Bruce out of there.

Once both men are out of the room and the door is closed, the doctor turns to him, “Tony, what the hell, what is it?”

The man in question leans against the opposite wall and crosses his arms, “The kid was about to lose it.”

Bruce goes quiet at that, understanding filtering through him, “It’s tough enough giving that kind of news, can’t imagine being on the receiving end of it.”

“Yeah.” Tony then looks up at the other man and asks, “How?”

“How what?”

“How could he have gotten this?”

“Well, I mean, there’s no real cause. Generally speaking, you either get it or you don’t -”

“No, not that, I mean how did  _ he _ get it? Even if he had it before, he has healing powers now, that should’ve fixed it.”

Bruce sighs, giving off an expression like he knew these questions were coming, “Peter’s healing factor does a lot: fixes his cuts, bruises, bullet wounds, even puts together broken bones with a little bit of help. But these are all on the surface, this disease is essentially at his core, and his healing factor apparently doesn’t go that far into himself.”

Tony gives him a confused look, “His core? His nervous system isn’t just at his core -”

“Not  _ that _ kind of core, Tony, not in the literal sense. His healing factor must not reach that deep into his body, that’s why those relapses were still happening, why we still saw white matter in his brain. But that doesn’t mean his healing factor has been completely useless, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Relapses in children are often more aggressive, more so than the numbness and throbbing. There’s not a doubt that his healing factor has made his relapses more bearable.”

“Well...that’s good, at least.” The other man covers his mouth with one of his hands, deep in thought. He then whispers gravely, “Is he going to die?”

Bruce answers quickly without a second thought, “No, no he won’t, he’s not gonna be on his deathbed, he can still be Spider-Man, he can still be a  _ kid, _ Tony. We caught this early, that means he starts treatment early, and with the treatment, it can prevent future relapses and slow the disease’s progression.”

“So once he starts the treatment, he’ll be fine? He won’t have any other problems?”

“Well, he’s still susceptible to symptoms, and if a relapse does happen, it might mean that we’ll have to adjust his medication. We’ll worry about that if we get to it, but for now, I just wanna work on setting him up with a treatment.”

“What’s that gonna entail?”

“Depends on what treatment he goes with. For the pill, he takes one twice a day; the injection, three times a week.”

“Forever?”

Bruce hesitates before he replies, “For the time being, yes.”

Tony then starts to casually pace up and down the hallway in concentration. The other Avenger casually leans against the wall to get out of his way. Curiosity gets the best of him and he asks, “Tony, what’re you thinking?”

The man in question takes a few seconds before he answers the question with one of his own, “You said there’s no cure, right?”

The other man lifts a confused eyebrow, “Right.”

“But like...are people  _ working _ on a cure?”

“Yeah, but it’s a long shot, I mean, that could be years and years down the line. But medication-wise, we’ve really come a long way in the last twenty years, the treatment nowadays is helping people more than ever.”

“And that’s good, that’s good...but do those people have  _ our _ resources?”

Bruce looks even more confused, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“We have the resources, we have funding, we have our  _ brains, _ Bruce, we might could do this. I mean, I don’t have anything better to do.”

The doctor looks at him incredulously, “Does the name  _ Iron Man _ ring a bell?”

Tony brushes him off, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, but seriously, hero-ness aside, could we do this?”

Bruce takes about a minute to really think about the heaviness of that question. His answer is reluctant, “It’s a hell of a long shot -”

“But it’s still a shot -”

“Tony, be realistic. Yes, there’s a possibility but that could be years,  _ many _ years down the line.”

“Look, I won’t tell the kid that I’m doing this, okay, I don’t wanna give him false hope in case it doesn’t pan out. But that’s the thing, Bruce, I won’t know if I can find a cure until I find out for myself.”

“How do you know the kid’s not listening right now?”

Tony’s head snaps right up, “Oh shit.” He rushes up to the door and knocks before he gingerly walks back in, closely followed by Bruce. 

He sees both the boy and his aunt in an embrace and the man feels guilty for barging in. He sees the two Parkers separate and May lovingly wiping her kid’s tears while sporting a gentle smile. The kid leans into those gestures, looking understandably tired and out of it. It doesn’t look like he heard anything, Tony thinks.

The mechanic walks up to Peter and gives him a heartfelt hug, which is quickly reciprocated. Tony whispers in his ear, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, you know that, right? Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Peter nods his head against his father figure’s shirt, “Thank you.”

“Of course, bud. What do you wanna do now?”

“Sleep.” All three family members lightly chuckle as the two heroes let go.

May then says, gripping onto her nephew’s shoulder, “Let’s go home, sweetheart. We can worry about everything later, okay?”

Said kid nods his head.

After saying their goodbyes to the two Avengers, they go home, car ride eerily silent.

The second they get to their apartment, Peter falls asleep on the couch. His aunt wraps a blanket around him, ruffles his hair, gives him a kiss on his forehead.

They have so much to do, she thinks: choose what to do for treatment, get access to that treatment...find out if their insurance can  _ pay _ for that treatment.

But for now, she lets him sleep, lets him bask in the hour or so before reality hits them like a bus once again.

May does have one thing that she’s thankful for:

_ We finally figured it out. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much on the amazing feedback, you have no idea how much they mean to me, especially with this fic, you guys are amazing 😭💖
> 
> I hope you enjoy this last chapter!! Trigger warning: needles, injections, and bruises

One of the first things Peter knows he needs to do is tell his best friend he has Multiple Sclerosis.

If he’s being honest, he’d rather not tell anyone other than the people who already know, but he already told Ned about the relapses, the second MRI, and spinal tap, so Peter can’t not tell him the results.

Which leads the teen to where he is now, currently sitting across from him on Ned’s bed one day after school.

The spiderling had the entire school day to tell him but whenever an opportunity came up, he chickened out...the timing never felt right.

Plus, what if someone overheard them? Not that Peter is ashamed, he knows there was nothing he could’ve done to prevent this illness but still, the thought of everyone knowing just makes his anxiety skyrocket.

Ned says, looking worried, “Dude, will you just spit it out already? You’ve been stuttering for like five minutes.”

“Sorry, um…” his friend takes in a breath, giving in, “I have MS...it’s official.”

The other sixteen-year-old’s jaw drops to the floor, “Oh my God.”

“I was gonna tell you earlier but um...yeah.”

“What happens now, what’re you gonna do?”

“Someone’s coming over next week to show me how to work the auto-inject thingy for the shots.”

That shocks Ned even more, “You’re gonna be taking  _ shots?” _

“Yeah, um...the side effects of the shots don’t seem to be as high of maintenance.”

“Side effects?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be too bad, though, so-so that’s good.”

“None of this is good, dude...how’re you feeling now?”

“That’s the ironic part, I feel fine right now, the throbbing hasn’t happened in a while.”

“I’m still pissed you didn’t tell me about the numbing thing, though, why didn’t you tell me right off the bat?”

“‘Cuz I didn’t know what it was and I was scared, okay, I didn’t want to tell you and I didn’t know what to do so...I didn’t do anything.”

_ “Peter _ -”

_ “I know, _ I was dumb, but at least we know what it is now.” Peter sees the look of pity that his friend is giving him and says reassuringly, “Ned, I’ll be okay. I’m still me, that’s not gonna change.”

“I know, I’m just...I hate that you gotta do this, y’know? You don’t deserve this.”

Peter smiles, “I try to look at the bright side, I mean, they caught it early and...there’s people out there who have it worse. At least I can still live my life with this thing.”

“What happens if you don’t take the treatment?”

The hero’s skin starts to bristle with goosebumps, “Um...well, those relapses I had could come back and, um...they could get worse. I...I also have a chance of paralysis later on in life.”

_ Just to name a few. _

Ned’s eyes widen, “Peter -”

“But it’s okay, I’m gonna do the treatment, I’m okay...I  _ will _ be okay -”

The other teen cuts him off with a hug, making the spiderling’s chest fill with a warm feeling of happiness. Peter then says, “Ned, I said I’m okay -”

“For God’s sakes,  _ hush.” _

His friend snorts as he reciprocates, that same phrase echoing through his head.

_ You’re gonna be okay. _

And he will be okay, damn it.

His life depends on it.

-

The following Monday after school, a nurse friend of Bruce’s comes by the Parkers’ apartment and gives him a device called an auto-injector, used for making his shots easier to inject than doing it manually.

All three settle into the living room and the nurse gives Peter and May too much information at once: how to install the shot into the injector, how and when to release it, what the shot is supposed to feel like, if he feels something different, call the doctor. 

_ It’s fine...everything is toooootally fine. _

The nurse then shows him the  _ seven _ different regions on his body where he has to inject the shots: the back of the upper part of both his arms and his hips, his stomach, and the front of both thighs. This leads the teen to ask, “Why seven?” 

“We want the medicine to be equally distributed throughout your body, the seven areas will make sure each region gets the right amount of treatment to counteract the disease.”

Peter doesn’t know how to respond except, “Oh.”

_ Okay, that does make sense. _

“Just make sure to not hit a region more than once; for example, if you inject in your stomach, you can’t inject there again until you hit the other six regions. Again, you need equal distribution of the medicine and the injection site needs time to heal.”

“Heal?”

“Yes, common side effects are redness, stinging, and skin irritation, hitting that region more than once could make that area especially sensitive.”

Again, Peter responds with a simple, “Oh.”

“And try not to inject where there are moles, freckles, stretch marks, etcetera, it could bruise the injection site.”

“Um...okay?”

She then goes on to talk about the shots themselves, how they need to be kept refrigerated but must be taken out at least twenty minutes before Peter plans to use them since they need to be injected at room temperature. He has to inject one shot three times per week - Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is the most popular schedule - it doesn’t matter what time as long as it’s at the same time and it doesn’t matter the area as long as he hits the other six areas before circling back to that first one.

The nurse then goes on, “But if you need to change the time, it is a forgiving medicine. Mondays are the best times to change because it will have been over two days since the last shot.”

_ I think my brain is actually gonna implode. _

The last thing the professional wants to do is something that Peter is anything but ready for.

She wants to aid him in giving him his first MS shot.

_ Whoa, whoa, whoa, I thought this was just a consultation or something, what?! _

May seems to sense the apprehension - seriously, how the fuck does she sense these things? - and starts rubbing her nephew’s back in comfort. She then whispers, “Hey, it’s alright, once you get past this first one, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

_ Right...the first one’s the hardest. _

The caregiver asks him, “Which area do you want to start with?”

“Um,” Peter takes a couple of seconds to think before he answers, “My left arm, I guess?”

“Okay, lift your sleeve for me.”

Fortunately, the kid is wearing a short-sleeve T-shirt, so he obliges without difficulty. The nurse has him wrap that arm around his shoulder - looking like he’s hugging himself - and sterilize the area he’ll be injecting with an alcohol swab.

While it’s drying, he manages to insert the shot into the injector without much help from the professional. Peter then “hugs himself” once more, gripping tight onto his shoulder because he can feel that hand start to tremble. His free hand grips onto the injector and rests it onto the back of his upper arm. Before he pulls the trigger, the nurse reminds him, “Remember, once you press the release, hold it for ten seconds so it can inject the medicine.”

The hero nods his head and after taking a deep breath, he presses the release button. As he holds down the button, he hears a soft ticking of the shot creeping up the injector, as if a bomb is about to go off. Then he feels the slight prick of it puncturing his skin and an almost satisfying “whoosh” sound is heard, indicating that the injection was a success.

As Peter relaxes and lets go, the caregiver gives him a tissue to stop up any blood because yes with any prick, blood will be present. She then tells him, “You will feel some stinging, that’s normal, about the same level as a bee sting. If you feel any nausea, weakness, or if your heart starts to race, let me know.”

“What happens if I do?”

“That’s typically a sign that the medicine is giving you a reaction and it might not work for you. If that happens, you would need to seek another form of treatment.”

_ Oh lovely, as if this already wasn’t anxiety-ridden enough. _

The spiderling then feels that sting he was warned about and she was  _ not _ exaggerating, it’s like the equivalent of that life-altering spider bite.

The blood flow soon stops with the sting showing no plans that it’s going to and tries to relax fully. The nurse asks, “How’re you feeling?”

Peter sighs relievedly, “Except for the sting, I feel fine.”

May cuts in, “Peter, you better not be lying -”

“I’m not, I promise, I feel fine other than the sting.”

The other woman responds, “Good, good. Alright, lemme show you how to discard the needle.”

She gives him a plastic container that she calls a “sharps container” that is used for discarding needles and other potentially hazardous objects. She shows him how to take out the syringe, discard it, then tells him to take another alcohol swab and sterilize the injector for the next one a couple of days from now, on Wednesday.

The nurse then wraps everything up with giving them the rest of the syringes for the month, a small bag to put everything in to make it easier if he needs to travel, pamphlets, a guide for where to inject, numbers to call for any questions, and even her business card to contact her personally should they need anything.

Then goodbyes are said and the healthcare professional departs, leaving a bit of numbness in her wake. Peter stares down at the box of shots, studying all the medical terms that he doesn’t know the meanings of, not yet realizing how much his life is going to have to now revolve around these things.

_ So, I gotta do this three times a week...forever. _

Peter sighs in utmost defeat.

_ Welcome to the new normal. _

-

It takes a few weeks, but Peter gets the hang of it. He changes the time to take his shots to the morning before school instead of having to worry about it after school and thus possibly delaying time for patrol.

So it becomes just another element to his morning routine, right there with brushing his teeth.

The stinging lessens the more his body gets used to it and the redness is expected but he learns quickly that the skin irritation is no joke. At times, he’ll find himself unconsciously scratching at his stomach or his thighs while at school, the lab, even out patrolling as if he’s got an eternal case of the chickenpox. At least the irritation typically lasts for only a day or two.

No one at school knows aside from Ned and it will stay that way, no matter how many times his aunt tells him that letting a few teachers know wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

But still...it’s none of their business.

And thankfully, none of his loved ones have treated him differently since he was diagnosed. No one’s said anything except for the occasional “How’re you feeling?” or “How’re you doing with the shots?” and honestly, the kid feels grateful that they care but even more so that they’re not smothering him.

But the weirdest part of these past few weeks: Peter feels fine.

Except for the light side effects from the shots, he feels...more than fine.

Fantastic even.

No symptoms or relapses have made themselves known since the throbbing from before his diagnosis.

If it wasn’t for these shots he has to take, he wouldn’t have known that he has a chronic illness.

_ So I guess that means the treatment’s working, right? But...does it really work that fast? _

Aside from his triweekly routine, the teenager’s life continues to be normal. He goes to school, plays video games with Ned, patrols, hangs out with Tony in the lab, spends time with May after she gets home from work.

Completely and utterly ordinary.

So much so that Peter is beginning to wonder if there’s some kind of catch, is he doing something wrong that’s going to make everything worse and his body just hasn’t told him yet? Or will he be hit with another relapse and Mother Nature is giving him false hope that’s he’s perfectly fine? 

Honestly, as much as Mother Nature has fucked him over, he wouldn’t be surprised.

The child expresses these concerns to May one evening while she’s making dinner to which she just replies with, “That must mean it’s  _ working, _ honey. Try not to overthink so much, you can’t spend your life worrying about what might happen.”

“I guess, it’s just weird how it all magically stopped, this is the longest I’ve gone being fine since my eyes went back to normal. I guess I’m just not used to...feeling fine.”

His aunt turns around and faces her kid, smiling sympathetically, “Look at the bright side, it looks like the medicine is doing what it’s supposed to. No relapses means it’s a good thing. Hey, maybe your healing powers are helping you out here too.”

“True...I guess I’m just paranoid.”

“With what you’ve been through, I don’t blame you. I know it’s easier said than done but try not to think so much about it, okay? You’re doing great and obviously feeling great, don’t be so pessimistic.”

Peter sighs, smiling back at her, “Okay.”

-

Weeks go by.

_ Months _ go by.

And nothing...absolutely nothing happens.

No vision issues, no numbness or throbbing.

Peter is perfectly fine.

_ This is the most bizarre thing ever. _

He takes May’s advice and rolls with it, chalking it up to the medicine doing its job correctly and he has absolutely nothing to worry about.

And as he’s getting into bed one night, the MS is the farthest thing from his mind. 

Peter sits down on his bed and puts his phone on his nightstand. He’s about to scoot under the covers when he feels an unexpected jolt filter through his left leg.

_ Huh? _

The boy looks at his leg just as another jolt runs through it and sees...nothing wrong with it.

His leg looks fine.

_ What the fuck? _

He gingerly gets under the covers in an attempt to not worsen whatever this is but it was a waste of effort because that same prickly sensation runs not only down his leg but also up to his shoulder on that same side.

The teen’s heart immediately starts to race and he lays still as a statue in the hopes to not exacerbate it. Did he pull something while on patrol or bump into someone and get a  _ very _ delayed form of static electricity? Is that even possible?

May’s a nurse, Peter thinks, maybe she’ll know what this is.

But he really doesn’t want to freak her out...because if she freaks out then he freaks out, and he’s already freaking out and his body really can’t afford to have a double whammy of freaking out since he’s  _ freaking the fuck out. _

Peter eyes his phone on his nightstand and starts to grab it but recoils as that same feeling appears in his left hand, like all the sound of TV static has decided to live in the left side of the teen’s body.

How does this feel the same as what TV static  _ sounds _ like?

The kid ignores that feeling of a balloon after someone’s rubbed their hair on it and hastily grabs his phone, texting the first person he thinks of who might know what the hell this is.

Tony Stark.

_ Hey…….you still up? _

Peter sends the text and lays his phone flat against his still-beating heart, crossing his hands over it because what the fuck else can he do with his hands right now?

Tony responds about a minute later.

_ Yeah why? _

The teenager feels embarrassed, suddenly. Is he really texting Iron Man about something as trivial as this? It doesn’t even hurt, it just...feels weird. He then feels a jolt of that static run down his leg once again. 

Peter answers a question with one himself, trying to deflect.

_ Ummmm…...how goes it _

His mentor responds damn near instantly.

_ Spit it out what’s wrong? _

Peter mutters, “Fuck, how does he know everything?” He then gives in and types another message.

_ I just….wanted to make sure you’re there 🙃 _

Tony responds a few seconds later.

_ Always...but seriously what’s wrong, bad dream or something? _

The protege answers.

_ No not that _

_ My left leg feels weird and idk if it’s like…..idk what it is and I’m kinda freaking out and yeah i just wanna make sure youre there _

Peter hasn’t even put his phone back down before it dings with another text from his father figure.

_ Weird how what does it feel like? _

The kid sends another message, typing as quickly as possible.

_ Yknow that shocking and fuzzy feeling you get when you’ve been on a trampoline like your whole body is filled with static electricity? It’s like that  _

_ But I havent been on a trampoline _

_ I have no idea what I did it just happened _

Tony takes a little longer to reply but after about a minute he does.

_ Huh...hang on gimme a sec _

Peter doesn’t respond and just lays his phone back on his chest.

_ Alright, deep breaths...everything is fine. _

He keeps taking those deep breaths, tightly gripping his phone but not so much so that he might break it. That same staticky feeling continues to flow back and forth from his shoulder all the way down his leg.

_ C’mon, Mr. Stark, hurry up. _

After a solid five minutes of more freaking out, Tony finally sends another text.

_ Is it a pins and needles type feeling? _

Peter types his answer as quickly as he can.

_ YES!!!! Omg yeah is that like ok??? _

Tony’s next text pops up right after his did, giving Peter the assumption that the man was already typing when he sent the text.

_ Cuz i just read that its a common ms symptom and it should go away on its own _

_ Kid youre gonna be fine _

_ It doesn’t hurt, does it? _

Peter types his response.

_ No it just feels weird….i don’t like it……. _

His mentor’s response pops up soon after.

_ Since it doesn’t hurt, that’s a good sign. This typically isn’t serious, just sleep it off kiddo _

_ You’re gonna be fine, it comes and goes _

The child sighs in relief, but his anxiety doesn’t really go away. He then sends another text to his mentor.

_ Are you sure? _

Tony replies a few seconds later.

_ Positive, I know you’re stressed out right now but try and get some sleep ok? Just sleep it off and you’ll be fine _

The child takes a few more deep breaths and slowly but surely, he finally calms down.

Not enough for him to stop thinking about it by any means, but at least he knows what this is. He is about to put his phone back on his nightstand when another text from Tony pops up.

_ I’ll be here if you need me now go to sleep _

Peter snickers as he types up his response.

_ Ok ok im going….thank you. I know I shouldve looked it up myself but um….i didn’t want to so...thanks _

_ Wait aren’t you gonna go to sleep? _

Tony quickly replies.

_ No problem kid _

_ And why would i, that’s what coffees for _

The teen rolls his eyes and sends another message.

_ Ffs YOU go to bed _

The man’s reply is instantaneous.

_ Only if you go to bed first _

The kid mutters, “Oh my God” as he sends another text, snickering all the while.

_ How do you even know I’ll go to bed _

His hero responds.

_ I have my ways you know that 😇 _

Peter rolls his eyes once more and sends another message.

_ When didya become such a helicopter mom _

Tony’s reply soon pops up.

_ Since I took a 12 year old with me to germany _

Peter scoffs, hurriedly typing his next message.

_ I was 14 get your math right 😂 _

The older man then replies.

_ Oh that makes me feel soooo much better...now goonight for real this time _

The teenager feels his heart to race again, but he works to keep it under control.

It’s just an MS symptom, he thinks, Bruce said symptoms will pop up, it’s inevitable.

He is about to send his own goodnight text when another one from Tony appears.

_ I’ll be here if you need me I promise ❤️ _

Peter smiles at the message as he feels a warmth of happiness filter through him. Maybe that will counteract the staticky feeling, he thinks, is that possible? He then sends his message.

_ Goodnight….and thank you ❤️ _

The kid puts his phone on his nightstand once again, ignoring that trampoline feeling that seems to trigger every time he moves. He then curls up in bed, making sure he’s on his right side, and attempts to put his mind at ease, chanting words of encouragement in his head.

_ You’re fine, nothing’s wrong. Well, something  _ is _ wrong but like not  _ that _ wrong, this is normal, it’ll go away on its own...it’ll go away on its own, it’ll go away on its own, damn it. _

_ It’ll go away on its own. _

The boy’s eyes thankfully start to get droopy with sleep, saying the same chant one more time before he finally conks out.

_ It’ll go away on its own. _

-

And thank God, it does.

Peter wakes up the next day and he is perfectly fine, as if that, whatever  _ that _ was, never happened.

_ So...that’s what an MS symptom is...jeez, it loves to keep people on their toes, apparently.  _

He decides not to tell May, why worry her if this is just a normal thing anyway? 

While that “pins and needles” feeling did go away, it doesn’t mean it went away forever. Like a can of worms, Peter starts getting the occasional feel of TV static around and across different parts of his body but since he knows what is now, he doesn’t say anything.

Because what the hell can be done about it?

And fortunately, the static doesn’t linger for too long either; once he sleeps it off or takes his mind off of it, it goes away and he’s fine until it pops up again. He can still go to school, build stuff in the lab, patrol. Sure, it’s a bit uncomfortable but...it could be worse. And at least that’s the only symptom he’s dealt with.

Until one night while he’s on patrol.

There he is, donning the Spider-Man suit, chilling on a rooftop and watching the sunset. It’s a slow evening for crime in Queens so he makes the most of it with the view and small talk with his AI, Karen.

The hero’s feet are mindlessly dangling off the building when he gets this unexpected, weird tingling sensation in his toes.

“What the -”

He cuts himself off when that feeling becomes more pronounced as if it’s telling him “No, you’re not going crazy, your feet actually do feel really fucking weird.”

Peter rests one foot on the opposite knee to try and get a good look at it, but it’s impossible to see what’s wrong without taking off his suit.

He unconsciously starts rubbing his toes together but that just makes everything worse, the tingling now moving on to numbness, not unlike his lip that happened so long ago.

_ How in the fuck can my toes feel numb? Like what the fuck is this?! _

The teen then addresses his AI, “Um, Karen...what’s happening to my feet?”

After a few seconds of what he assumes is the AI scanning him, she says, “That is called ‘neuropathy’, Peter. It is a dysfunction of one or more of the peripheral nerves, usually in the hands and feet. This typically causes numbness or weakness.”

“The nerves?” The boy sighs, “Another MS thing, I guess.”

“The neuropathy does seem to be minor, so I trust that this will go away soon.” Karen then says after a brief pause, “Your heart rate seems to have increased dramatically, shall I contact Mr. Stark -”

“No! No, um no. I’ll-I’ll, uh, go see him instead.”

“I can give you the shortest route to the Avengers Tower. If this is regarding the neuropathy, I trust that you have nothing to worry about, Peter.”

Peter says as he starts swinging towards the tower, abiding by the AI’s directions, “Karen, there’s something you gotta know about anxiety...I worry about  _ everything, _ and recently I tend to kinda jump to the worst-case scenario, so I’d like to think that my toes going numb is a valid reason to get anxious.”

“Duly noted, sending a signal to Mr. Stark so he’ll prepare for your arrival.”

“Good thing I’m low maintenance...I think.”

“I would also like to point out that your heart rate is still elevated, currently sending those numbers to Mr. Stark -”

“Karen, I literally just told you  _ not _ to do that.”

_ For fuck’s sake, betrayed by my own AI. _

“I can only abide by them to a certain extent. Since your heart rate has been elevated for a few minutes now, this is cause for concern, and Mr. Stark would like to know.”

_ Mr. Stark is literally the definition of “helicopter mom.” _

“Karen,  _ please, _ I’m gonna tell him in a few minutes, I just don’t wanna freak him out.”

“Too late, Mr. Stark has already received these numbers on his phone.”

_ Fantastic, fan-fucking-tastic. _

Peter grumbles, landing on the rooftop of the tower, “Thanks, Karen...totes not annoyed with you, right now.”

Karen answers, completely unfazed, “You’re welcome, Peter.”

The hero groans as yanks off his mask, “And  _ that _ is the last time I’m talking to you tonight.” He then walks to the door and uses his code to enter, taking special notice that walking on numb toes is like an out-of-body experience. He feels his heels touching the ground, but are his toes...hovering?

_ This is a thing that should never be a thing. _

The second the boy enters the lab, his mentor looks up, etched with worry, “Hey, what happened, is everything okay -”

_ “Yes, _ I promise, Karen just jumped the gun.”

“Then why’s your heart still beating like a racehorse?”

Peter groans as he sits in a chair across from his mentor, putting his head in his hands, “I’ll calm down eventually, I just need a minute.”

The man’s tone softens, “What happened, rough patrol?”

“No…” the young genius hesitates a few seconds before he confesses, “My toes feel numb.”

Tony is immediately confused, “Come again?”

The boy lifts up his head, “My toes, the middle ones on both my feet, they’re numb. They feel numb right now, I’m assuming it’s an MS thing.”

“The numbness...like with your lip?”

Peter nods his head, “It feels so weird, why is this a thing?” 

“This disease is full of surprises, isn’t it?”

“I’m starting to hate surprises.” The spiderling then feels the numbness start to subside, “Wait, it’s going away.”

“That fast?”

“Yeah.” Peter rubs his toes together once again and sighs relievedly at actually feeling all of his toes, “It’s gone now...what the fuck was that?”

“Must be another symptom...wanna talk to Bruce about it?”

“I don’t wanna waste his time, it only lasted like a minute. I freaked out over nothing -”

_ “No, _ not nothing, I’d be freaking out too, and it can’t hurt to ask and make sure everything’s okay, he won’t mind.”

A strike of panic flows through the teenager, “What if everything’s  _ not _ okay?”

“I’m sure it is, I’m just a worrywart.”

_ Meeeeee too. _

“Same here...okay, I’ll go see him.”

“Want me to come with you?”

Peter bites his lip, feeling childish that he wants his “dad” to come with him, but he puts that feeling aside and says a soft, “Please?”

Tony ruffles his kid’s hair from across the table, “Never be afraid to ask,  _ ever.” _

-

Instead of taking him to medbay, Tony decides to have Bruce stop by the lab and take a look at Peter’s feet, thinking the casual atmosphere won’t make the kid as anxious than sitting in a sterile, squeaky-clean exam room.

The teenager is now out of his suit and clad in sweats, sitting in a chair next to a work table. Bruce sits in a chair across from him and says, “Hey, Peter, so something happened with your feet?”

Peter nods his head, “The middle toes on both my feet went numb for about a minute.”

The doctor hums in curiosity, “Can I take a look?”

The child lifts up one bare foot and Bruce gently grabs it. He then starts studying it, toes and all, and presses into the skin, almost like he’s massaging it. If this didn’t feel so weird, the spiderling would’ve thought this was relaxing.

Bruce then starts stroking the bottom of Peter’s foot, having the kid tell him where he can feel it and where he can’t. Fortunately for the teenager, he can feel everything.

After doing the same on the other foot and getting matching results, the Avenger pulls that same hammer-thing out of his pocket and tests the boy’s reflexes, even using the instrument to tap the bottom of his feet to see what reaction he would get.

Bruce then puts down his feet and leans back into his chair. He gives the other two heroes a caring look, “I hate to say this, guys, but there’s nothing I can do. His feet seem to be fine.”

Tony says from his work table, looking annoyed, “Bruce, his toes were  _ numb _ -”

“I know, I know this is frustrating but trust me, Peter is doing everything he’s supposed to do. Unfortunately, there’s not a cure for neuropathy, it’s just something that he’s going to have to keep watch over.”

Peter asks, “So this is gonna happen again?”

“I think so, but if it only lasts for as short of time as you said, it sounds like this symptom is pretty minor. So just keep monitoring it, how long your toes stay numb the next time this happens, if it’s different toes next time, etcetera. If it gets significantly worse, there’s a chance you might need to get your medication adjusted but that  _ won’t be a bad thing, _ understand, a change-up isn’t a bad sign. Have you had any other symptoms?”

“Um, a few weeks ago, I had that ‘pins and needles’ type feeling on most of the left side of my body. It’s been happening off and on since then.”

“How long do they typically last?”

“Just a few minutes.”

“That’s good, again, monitor those, it doesn’t look like it’s anything serious. I wish I could tell you more, I know it’s not very fun.”

Peter shrugs, “I’m getting used to it...so if I get other symptoms, I shouldn’t...freak out right away?”

“I don’t blame you for getting scared the first time it happens, you haven’t had them before, of course you’d freak out. But if you do experience something out of the ordinary, look into it first, or just call me.”

The spider-boy nods his head, “Okay...um, thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Bruce gets up and after saying his goodbyes to Tony, he leaves the lab.

Peter spins his chair around to face his father figure, “So I can’t do anything about this.”

Tony gives him a look of utmost sympathy, “I’m sorry, kiddie, I wish there was more I can do.”

“You’ve done a lot already. Thanks for letting me see Dr. Banner.”

“Peter, you don’t need to thank me for seeing a doctor, I was happy to do it. At least what you just had isn’t cause for concern.”

“Yeah.” the young genius then asks, hoping to change the subject, “Whatcha working on?”

“Uh…” Tony stares down at his parts in concentration before he says slowly, “Um, starting to convert my suit to nanotech, wanna join in?”

The kid’s eyes brighten, “Can I after my shower?”

“I mean I’m not going anywhere. Still staying the night like we had planned?”

_ “Hell yeah, _ be right back.” Peter then races out of the lab, the freak-out from earlier damn near forgotten.

The second he leaves, Tony quickly says to his AI, “FRI, lemme know when he’s on his way back.”

“Yes, boss.”

The older hero then pulls up several holograms that he was working on before his intern rushed in. Chemical compounds, medical terms, diagrams, charts, the whole nine yards.

Tony then takes out several textbooks he hid at the last minute, already highlighted and with what looks like a million post-it notes sticking out of them.

The genius gets back to work, tapping on screens, reading in those mundane textbooks, using his technology to draw an infinite amount of possibilities.

Because he’s going to find a cure for Multiple Sclerosis, damn it.

If it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

-

“Boss, Mr. Parker requests your presence in the workshop.”

Tony asks his AI as he’s preparing his coffee, “What for?”

“He seems to be stuck to the ceiling, sir.”

_ Oh, for God’s sakes. _

It is the following day at the tower and Tony was anticipating just having a chill morning with the kid, he definitely wasn’t expecting said kid to already be in the lab and experimenting on...whatever the fuck he’s experimenting with.

The mechanic rushes to his workshop, coffee mug in hand, and once he’s through the doors, he sees his intern hanging from the ceiling with one hand that looks to be covered in his web fluid.

Tony shakes his head as he stares up at the kid, shit-eating grin on his face, “What, and I cannot stress this enough, the  _ fuck _ are you doing?”

His protege answers nonchalantly, “Just making up that new web fluid. I just um...got stuck.”

“You don’t say?” The older hero takes a sip of his coffee before he says, “I thought you could use your super strength to get out of it.”

“Well, with the normal web fluid, I could. But this stuff,” Peter gestures to his trapped hand, “Is like super  _ duper _ sticky. Y’know how it takes two hours for the normal web fluid to dissolve?”

Tony casually leans against the wall, still sipping on his coffee, “Yeah?”

“This stuff is supposed to last like four hours instead -”

“Huh, like a Viagra.”

_ “Ewww, _ you just ruined it.”

Tony laughs into his coffee, “You can’t tell me something lasts for four hours and not expect that joke -”

_ “Anyway, _ it’s like super duper strong and I can’t break through it...which I honestly wasn’t expecting.” The teen then starts flailing his other arm towards his work table, “So can you uh, get the dissolving solution, it’s like riiiiiight there.” He then points directly at the object in question, located next to his chemistry set that’s used to make such web fluid.

“Will the same dissolving solution work?”

“Yeah, I just need to use more of it than normal...I should work on that next.”

The billionaire shrugs, “Eh, lemme drink my coffee first.”

Peter is completely unamused, “Seriously?”

“I need fuel, fuel that you obviously have too much of. And you just look  _ so damn adorable _ up there -”

“This is child abuse.”

Tony playfully scoffs, “In what universe?”

“In  _ every _ universe. I’m gonna have to pee eventually y’know, and if you’re keeping me from my basic human right -”

The man cuts him off with a giggle, “Oh my God if I give it to you, will you shut up?”

“Never, were you born yesterday or something?”

Tony rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the coveted dissolvent, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Hey, what’s more fun: sitting on the couch watching boring news or seeing me hanging out like a monkey?” The tyke then starts swinging in place, “The real question is: what would you do  _ without _ me?”

_ I don’t ever wanna find out. _

“I’d have less gray hair for one.” Tony grabs the solution and tosses it to his kid, “Think fast.”

Peter catches it with ease, “Thanks.” He then gets to work on dissolving the web fluid, keeping one foot on the ceiling so he doesn’t fall once his hand is free. His mentor is standing by sans the coffee mug in case clumsiness gets the best of him.

The hand is free in no time and the boy quickly rests it back on the ceiling - using his own stickiness to keep it in place. He then tosses the solution back to Tony and puts both hands on the ceiling, causing his shirt to ride up.

Which then causes Tony to see some kind of dark eyesore located on the spiderling’s stomach.

When Peter drops down, his father figure is quick to ask, pointing at his abdomen, “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Tony lifts his shirt slightly, just enough to see that dark spot. His charge abruptly pushes his shirt back down, looking nervous, “Mr. Stark -”

“What’s that on your stomach?”

“N-N-Nothing -”

“Don’t lie to me, kid, I know I saw something, what the hell is it?” The mechanic grabs onto his kid’s shirt again but Peter pushes his hand away. The tyke then lets out a defeated sigh and lifts the shirt himself.

There, on his left side of his stomach and a ways above his belly button, is a dark gray bruise, about the size of a golf ball...and that doesn’t include the redness surrounding it. 

It looks as if someone gave his kid a hard-ass punch in the gut.

Tony asks, voice significantly lowered, “Who the hell gave you that?”

His intern bites his lip, “Um...I did.”

“Don’t lie to me, kid -”

“I’m not, I swear...this is all me.”

“What happened?”

“Um…” the kid sighs, looking down in shame, “The nurse who taught me how to inject my shots, she said to not inject on freckles, stretch marks, stuff like that. I, uh, I accidentally got really close to this one mole I have -”

Tony’s eyebrows raise to his hairline, shock evident on his face, “The  _ shot _ gave you that?”

Peter winces, “Yeah, it happened yesterday but it’ll go away in like a week or so. Well, with me, it’ll be less than that so, um, yeah.”

“Jesus, these shots don’t fuck around.” The man starts to reach out to get a better look at the wound, but Peter stops him, pushing his shirt back down, “Don’t touch it!”

“Wha -”

“It hurts if you touch it, it’s kinda...sensitive right now.”

“I wasn’t going to, don’t worry. Does it hurt?”

“Uh...not anymore.”

“So it  _ did _ hurt -”

“Only for a little while, but it’s fine, I  _ promise, _ you don’t need to make a big deal out of it, it’ll heal.”

“There’s a bruise on your stomach and you’re telling me  _ not _ to make a big deal out of it?”

The child rolls his eyes,  _ “Yes, _ this is why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want you to freak out -”

“Too late for that...you need something for it?”

“No, it’ll be fine, this isn’t the first one I’ve had, the other one went away fine.”

“The  _ other _ one?”

“Mr. Stark, I’m not a porcelain doll, relax. I was just learning how to do the thing and I injected it in the wrong spot on my thigh. The bruise I got lasted a few days, but it went away.”

“I know you’re damn near invincible and all but you can’t blame me for being worried...you sure you don’t need anything?”

“Positive...but thanks.”

“Anytime.” Tony picks up his mug, “Now, thanks to you, my coffee’s cold. I wasted a whole-ass Keurig pod on this.”

Peter snorts, “Ever heard of a microwave -”

“Not the same. C’mon, you need food.”

The kid follows his father figure out of the lab. He then says, “You have money, can’t you just hire a barista to make you coffee every day?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

-

Peter knows he’s lucky.

He really does.

Is MS a fun disease to have? Absolutely not.

But is it the  _ worst _ disease he could have? Absolutely not.

So whenever symptoms come, old or new, he tries to keep his mouth shut. Nothing can be done about them, what’s the point in complaining? 

He’s going to have to deal with this for the rest of his life - most likely - complaining would just be a wasted effort. Plus the symptoms aren’t actually hurting him, they’re just...annoying, is all.

But some symptoms are just so weird that it’s impossible not to tell someone.

So one day, Peter decides to give in and tell his aunt what he's been experiencing. As much as he would love to keep her in the dark, he knows it wouldn’t be fair to her in case something does happen.

Which he hates to think about but that’s life.

“Hey, May, um...didya know people with MS can sometimes get a burning sensation?”

His aunt looks up from her magazine on the other side of the couch, obviously confused, “What?”

“Yeah, um...my hand,” Peter holds up the left hand in question, “It was after I washed dishes, I thought my hands were just under the hot water too long but...the burning wouldn’t go away in this one.”

“Oh my God, um, is it okay now, is it -”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine now, it only lasted about twenty minutes or so.”

“Twenty minutes?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wanna worry you! I mean it freaked me out at first too, but then I looked it up, it’s apparently a normal symptom.”

“Like the ‘pins and needles’ you talked about?”

“Yeah, like that, and...my toes go numb sometimes -”

“Neuropathy?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” May scoots closer to her nephew, giving him a concerned smile, “I’m sorry you have to go through this, sweetie.”

Peter shrugs casually, “It is what it is.”

The nurse starts ruffling her kid’s hair, “Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“How do you know there’s something else?”

“‘Cuz I know you, silly goose.”

The spiderling sighs exasperatedly, “It’s kinda hard to explain but...sometimes I itch.”

“Like a bug bite?”

“Yeah, but I don’t actually have bug bites. I looked it up, it’s another ‘thing’...God, everything’s a ‘thing’, I don’t wanna know what’s next.”

“Hey, hey,” May slowly lowers her nephew’s head to rest on her shoulder, “I don’t wanna know either, but you can’t think like that.”

“I know, it’s just...my mind always jumps to the worst thing, y’know? Like what if something is really wrong, what if it’s getting worse and I don’t know it and-and -”

“Baby, baby, stop right now. You becoming a hypochondriac isn’t gonna help anything.”

“But why are there so many damn symptoms?”

“Who knows, Peter, who knows. But try not to worry about that, take each ‘thing’ that comes. You can’t live your life constantly worrying.”

Peter sighs defeatedly, “It just sucks. I hate saying that, but it does.”

His guardian wraps her arm around him in a hug, “You’re allowed to say something sucks, the sky won’t fall.”

“I know but-but I don’t like complaining about something that I’m gonna have to deal with forever...for the time being forever, anyway. It’s just empty complaining at that point.”

“I’m not saying complaining about it every day is healthy but venting about it every once in awhile, you can’t keep those feelings bottled up, you gotta let ‘em out somehow. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Her nephew hums in agreeance, “Good point, still don’t like it though.”

“Let yourself be a normal human being for once and  _ complain.” _

Peter can’t help but chuckle, “Okay, okay, I hate when my toes go numb, it makes walking feel so damn weird.”

“There you go.” May gives him a kiss on the top of his head before letting go, “How d’ya feel?”

“Honestly, pretty good...thanks, Aunt May.”

Said woman starts laughing, “You’re thanking me for telling you to complain?”

“Yup, I thought most parents wouldn’t like that.”

“Eh, since when have I been your ordinary parent?”

Peter giggles as he gives her another hug.

God, where would he be without his aunt May?

-

There is even more clutter in Tony’s workshop than there was a couple of weeks ago.

Which makes sense because he’s practically living there at this point. In all honesty, he’s been like this since his spider-kid was diagnosed.

The man has barely so much as touched his Iron Man suits, hasn’t tinkered with anything or even upgraded his protege’s suit. Everything superhero-related is currently collecting dust throughout the lab.

The mechanic knows he should spread out his work a bit but how can he build his thousandth suit when he has a kid who needs help  _ right now? _

Speaking of, FRIDAY then says, voice flooding through the room, “Sir, Mr. Parker has arrived.”

“Shit,” Tony quickly turns off holograms, diagrams, doodles, and anything else to not give the kid any false hope. He then starts working on some mechanical part and smiles when the teenager walks in, setting down his backpack with a loud “thump” and damn near skipping to the work table Tony is at, “Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, how was school?”

“Eh, same as always. Whatcha working on?”

“Um...uh,” the older hero says the first excuse he thinks of, “Slowly converting my suit to nanotech.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, “You’re working on the cure, aren’t you?”

Tony drops the part in shock, making the kid flinch at the noise, “Um...what?”

“You said the same nanotech thing like a couple weeks ago.” 

_ Shit. _

The boy glances around the workshop, “And it doesn’t look like you’ve made any progress since then, so you’ve gotta be working on the cure, right?”

The billionaire’s eyes widen in bafflement, “How in the - so you  _ did _ hear me and Bruce that day.”

Peter sits on the table next to where his father figure is standing and nods his head, “It was kinda hard not to...everyone forgets that I can hear everything from like New Jersey.”

Tony grunts, laughing in bewilderment, “Of course.” His face falls, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t want you to know. There’s like a ninety-eight percent chance that it won’t work, I didn’t wanna get your hopes up.”

“You’re not getting my hopes up...I know it’s a long shot.”

“But  _ God, _ I want this to work, though.”

Peter hesitates before he says, “I can’t think like that.”

“Like what?”

The boy sighs, gaze going to his dangling legs, “As much as I would love a cure to exist...I can’t dwell on it. I can’t spend my life hoping for a cure to come, I’d just be let down all the time. I don’t wanna be miserable, Mr. Stark.”

Tony smiles sympathetically, “I get it. Do you want me to continue, I haven’t made a dent in anything yet, I’m still just reading stuff.”

“I mean, I don’t want you to just waste your time either ‘cuz like you said, it might not work.”

“You wanna know how long it took me to perfect the Iron Man suit? I know patience, kid.”

“But still, I’ll feel guilty.”

Tony leans onto the table next to the spider-boy, “What about the other people who’re working on a cure? Do you feel guilty about them?”

“Well no, it’s their job, you have other stuff to do like being Iron Man and stuff.”

“I can multitask.”

Peter snorts, “Oh my God, Mr. Stark -”

“I’m being serious, I like a challenge, and if it helps you in the process, that makes it even better.”

“I want to believe a cure can exist, I really do, but I can’t think about that. I gotta look at it as: I’m just a kid who has to take a shot three times a week. My toes go numb sometimes, my fingers tingle randomly, my legs like to get prickly...that’s my life now, I can’t see anything different or I’ll, I don’t know, die or something. I can’t get my hopes up.”

“And you don’t have to.” Tony, now standing in front of the kid, puts a comforting hand on his knee, “I’m not saying this’ll happen - although it  _ would _ be nice - but I know there are no promises. I’m not saying you gotta live with this carrot dangling in front of you for the rest of your life but what I am saying is,” the man lifts his intern’s chin to look at him directly, “A little bit of hope never hurt anybody either.”

A heartfelt smile escapes the spiderling, “Yeah, good point.”

Tony squeezes that knee, “So what d’ya say, kiddo, wanna give this a shot...no pun intended.”

Peter giggles, feeling his cheeks heat up in shyness, “Yeah, why not, I guess. Um, can I help?”

_ “Duh, _ someone’s gotta keep me company.”

The kid playfully rolls his eyes before he says, “Cool...um, Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Pete, we don’t know if this’ll work -”

“But still, you’re doing it, you’re doing all of this...for me and um, this is the nicest thing everyone’s ever done for me and I just, I don’t know what to say and -”

“You don’t need to do or say a thing.” Tony moves his hand from his kid’s knee to his shoulder, “Just keep being your brave and awesome self.”

“I don’t feel brave -”

“The bravest ones don’t.”

Peter’s cheeks heat up with the good kind of embarrassment, “Can you promise me something, though?”

“Anything, shoot.”

“If we do this, if we can actually find a cure...can we share it?”

“With other people who have it, you mean?”

“Yeah, didya know that almost two and a half million people have MS? If this could help them, that’d be amazing.” 

_ The world really doesn’t deserve this kid. _

“That would be...I’ll share it on one condition.”

“What?”

“That you’ll be the first one.”

_ “Mr. Stark -” _

_ “Promise me.” _

Peter laughs in disbelief, “Okay, I promise.” He then surprises the older man by leaning forward and embracing him in a hug, “You’re the best.”

Tony reciprocates, squeezing the tyke in his grip, “Ben would be so proud of you.”

“Not gonna lie, I wish he was here.”

“Me too.” Tony lets go of the hug, “So, ready to get started?”

“How do we even start?”

“With lots of reading.”

“Of course we gotta start with the boring stuff.”

“Yup.” The mechanic plops a book into his intern’s hands, “Read it and weep, kiddo.”

“Well, we talked about making this an  _ actual _ internship, now’s as good a time as any.” Peter takes a good look at the book and starts snickering, “Good Lord, didya mark every single page, there’s more post-it notes than actual book.”

“I like to be thorough.”

_ “Obviously.” _

-

Life has a tendency to throw curveballs, and this one that's thrown at Peter Parker is one that he and his family never,  _ ever _ expected.

Some curveballs are temporary, ones that are thrown to make life "interesting" and keep people on their toes.

But some are permanent...and the only thing left to do is adjust, regroup, and move on.

Move on with the new normal.

Whether a cure happens or not, Peter has accepted it.

He has to live with Multiple Sclerosis, there is no shortcut or loophole to get around it.

And by God, he’s not letting that stop him from  _ anything. _ He refuses to let this thing hold him back from doing what he loves:

_ Being a kid. _

If Spider-Man is so invincible…

Then Peter Parker is too.

Chronic illness be damned.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! I'm also on tumblr @baloobird


End file.
